Fragments Through The Years
by History101
Summary: An AU series of events - written in no particular order - set after X Men: First Class, mainly focusing on the friendship between Charles and Erik, which, in my world, isn't torn apart. Not slash. I don't own any copyrights.
1. Late September, 1963, Wednesday 25th

**Late September, 1963.**

* * *

It was a strange sight that greeted Hank, Alex, his younger brother Scott, and Sean one Wednesday night when the telepathic voice of the professor beckoned them to join him in his study. He hadn't explained why and they hadn't had the chance to ask but what they found they wouldn't have guessed in a million years. Erik - Magneto, wearing his helmet, was standing beside Azazel, Angel, Riptide and Emma Frost who was in full 'diamond mode'.

Hank snarled in warning and charged at Magneto, gripping him by the throat and lifting him into the air. He was surprised that the man didn't fight back and when his 'friends' moved to aid him he raised a shaking hand to order them to stop.

"Hank, please, let him go," Charles said calmly.

"Professor, he..." Beast growled.

"Is here to talk, not to fight."

"With this helmet you never know!" the young scientist replied angrily.

"And if he chokes to death we'll not know, either," the professor countered and Beast, reluctantly released his former comrade. "We've been talking for some time before I called you down here," he said to his students.

"You should've called us sooner, they shouldn't be here," Alex crossed his arms.

"Bring it, little man," Riptide smirked back.

"We could take you out, blindfolded," Sean hissed.

"_Enough_!" Charles called in their minds and all attention turned to him before a war broke out. Silence fell in the room and he let out a sigh born of frustrated patience and shredded nerves. "You can stay," he said eventually, "All of you, if you wish," he said to Magneto's Brotherhood.

"Professor, you can't be serious!" Sean exclaimed.

"I am deadly serious," the professor narrowed his eyes at the group of mutants across the room.

Azazel looked to Erik who nodded to him slightly and the red skinned mutant sighed. "I stay if you do," he said to the German.

"Count me out," Emma crossed her ams, "If I'd known this was what you had in mind I wouldn't have come in the first place."

"Me too," Angel shook her head and walked closer to Emma.

For Raven it was no contest. She'd been longing to return to the manor, to her brother and all those long talks with Erik had paid off. It was what they both wanted but they knew it would take time for things to get back to how they had been before.

"You are sure?" Charles asked Angel who nodded. He then turned to Riptide who gave a similar nod, "Very well, then I suggest you leave. I'm sure Azazel wouldn't mind taking you wherever you wish to go."

Once again, Azazel looked to Erik, "Take them back to the warehouse," he said and the red mutant obliged, vanishing in a puff of smoke and then returning a second later, minus three mutants.

"The professor may welcome you, but you have no idea what he's been through because of what you did, because you left," Beast snarled through his teeth at Erik and Raven. She lowered her head in silent agreement and Erik did his best to hold back his anger.

"Charles..." Raven began sadly, moving towards her brother, intending to give him a hug but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Hank, Sean, would you take Azazel and Raven into the kitchen, I'm sure they're rather hungry. Alex, I think it's time for bed," he added sending a brief glance at the young boy that was practically hiding behind Alex. His tone left no room for arguments.

"Professor..." Sean began to protest.

"Please," the man breathed and they slowly acquiesced.

Azazel made no effort to move as he studied the professor through narrowed eyes. "_Peace, Azazel_," he heard the mans' voice in his mind, "_I mean you no harm, but I will know if you mean harm to others under my roof and I won't allow it._" The red mutant let out a quiet growl in acknowledgement and went to leave with the others.

"Not you, Erik, you and I need to talk," Charles said aloud when the older man made to leave.

When the door clicked shut behind Sean, the last one out, Charles wheeled himself out from behind his desk and moved in front of the fire. "Sit down, please," he said to Erik.

Erik slowly walked across to the chair opposite to Charles and observed that the wheelchair in which he sat was made entirely out of plastic.

"Is it...permanent?" he asked.

"It's highly probable," Charles answered emotionlessly.

"Mein Gott..." Erik breathed quietly, "I didn't know...I never...I thought..."

"I understand."

"You have every right to hate me," the older man mourned.

"Why are you here, Erik? Why now when you've been doing everything to avoid me for almost a year?"

"I didn't want to fight you," he corrected.

"No, you don't," Charles said gravely.

"Surely you know what happened, you might not be able to read my mind now but their minds..."

"You know fully well that Emma wiped it from their memory, very sloppily too I might add. They remember a dark night, a distant image of a faceless young child crying but no details, I saw her taking their memories through their eyes. Don't take me for a fool."

"I didn't think it would work," Erik shrugged, "She's nowhere near as strong as you."

"No, she isn't. That's why she shouldn't tamper with people's memory, she could cause irreparable damage."

"I didn't have a choice."

"There's always choice."

"Not always."

"Erik..."

"Listen to me," Erik pleaded, standing up and pacing around. "I didn't want this. I never meant for you to get hurt. I'd never want that. You trusted me and I betrayed that trust at the first test but surely you understand why I did what I did."

"I don't condone it."

"He was a threat and I removed him. It needed to be done. What would you have done if I hadn't killed him? Locked him away only for him to be released and let loose on the world again?"

"I don't know, but no one deserves to die like that."

"...Like that...how do you know how he died, you weren't there?"

"I was inside his mind," Charles said, "He was frozen, remember."

"...Does that mean..."

"It does. I know what you did, I saw your face, I felt his death."

"I didn't think..."

"No, you didn't," Charles shook his head, "You were fuelled by your anger."

"You could have let go."

"He would have killed you if I had and I had no way to talk to you," he said, momentarily glaring at the shining helmet.

"So not only did I cripple you, I also killed you," Erik realised, "That's what Beast meant."

"Among other things, yes, that's what he meant."

"Es tut mir leid...Charles, I didn't know...I swear to you..."

"I know."

"...I should go..."

"Don't," Charles said, "Don't do anything out of guilt."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Do what you think is best for you, that's what you've always done, isn't it?"

"And look where that led," Erik scoffed, gesturing to the wheelchair.

"On certain issues we may never see eye to eye, but I believe that is why we are stronger as allies than enemies."

"That's what I wanted..."

"Allies for peace, not for war."

"War is coming, Charles, whether you want it or not."

"Maybe, but your way would lead to our destruction."

"I want only what we deserve!"

"You want only what you've always known," Charles said, "Chaos, war, anger. There are other ways to live."

Erik in his anger and frustration, had everything metallic in the room quivering with his rage, "Be calm, Erik," the younger man told him and after a minute, he reigned in his temper.

"I may not always agree with you," he stated, "I may never earn back your trust. But I am here to make amends. I am here to tell you that I will never bring harm to you again nor will I allow anyone else to do so."

"I don't require a bodyguard."

"No, that's Hank's job obviously," Erik remarked.

"I am well able to defend myself if necessary. I don't need my legs for that."

"This isn't easy for me," the older man ground out, "And you're not helping."

"I'm not trying to make it easy, whatever 'it' is."

"I want to fight by your side again, I know I've no right to ask..."

"I've already said you are welcome here. You have no obligation to me whatsoever, I will allow you to stay because you have asked me and I will not turn anyone away if they wish to be here."

"No obligation," Erik repeated incredulously, "Look at what I did to you! I have every obligation!"

"Well...should you ever decide to tell me what prompted this decision I'm sure it will prove to be interesting to say the least."

"You won't read my mind to find out?"

"I won't, you have my word, as long as I have your word that there will be no more killing, by you or by Azazel."

"...Very well..."

"Good," Charles gave a slight nod of approval, "I will know if you lie to me."

"I don't doubt it."

"Who was the boy?" Erik asked after a minute.

"Scott Summers, Alex's brother," Charles answered.

"How long..."

"Almost nine months."

"So...not long after..."

"Alex wanted him to be safe. They're scared of you, Erik, and I don't blame them. You did little to earn their trust and whatever there was, you destroyed."

"I know."

"You clearly weren't bothered by that thought when you left."

"No, I wasn't," Erik admitted.

"You're not going to tell me what happened to make you change your mind, are you?" Charles tried again.

"No...maybe...perhaps, one day, I will."

"As you wish," the telepath shrugged. "It's late and I'm tired, do what you want but I'm going to bed. Goodnight," he finished and left the room leaving Erik alone.

* * *

Mein Gott - My god

Es tut mir leid - I'm so sorry


	2. Late November, 1962

**Late November 1962 - A short time after XM : FC**

* * *

Charles Xavier was enveloped in darkness in one of the many living rooms of the Westchester mansion. There was only a single light on in the large room and the thick curtains were closed against the dark night outside the strong walls of the building.

It had only been a matter of weeks since his 'accident' and already he'd had to discourage Hank's attempts to find a cure. It wasn't that he didn't want to walk again, but Charles knew that it was impossible. He was prepared to live the rest of his life as he was, after all, he was still alive. It wasn't the loss of his mobility that he took the hardest. It was the loss of his beloved and beautiful sister as well as a man he'd quickly come to look on as a brother. He'd later been forced to wipe Moria's mind so ultimately he'd lost her too. But he knew he could survive her loss, it wasn't one he'd been able to help, but he saw the loss of Raven and Erik as his fault. He'd thought he could help Erik but he'd been wrong.

What made it worse was that those remaining; Hank, Alex and Sean didn't blame him at all, not even in the deepest recesses of their minds. He knew that the three of them hadn't grown to trust and respect Erik as much as he had but if they'd had the time to truly get to know the good in Erik, Charles felt that they would've trusted him too. He put it down to being a telepath, but it never took him very long to truly trust a person because he could see in an instant, everything inside them whereas with everyone else it took years, even lifetimes to see traits that some desperately tried to hide.

Charles screwed his eyes tightly shut with a quiet moan of frustration and rubbed his temples, trying to soothe out the dull throbbing he could feel growing in his head. He'd slept very little and whenever he did mange to drift off he felt himself dying again - dying as Sebastian Shaw had died, at Erik's hand. He'd known that Erik had killed, he'd seen it in his mind, but feeling the death of another was the worst kind of torment, especially when he could see his friend doing the killing right in front of him.

He tried every day to push the memory from his mind and every day he tried to get back some sense of normalcy. He worked on equations for a new Cerebro with Hank, he went through theories with Alex and Sean about how they could further use and improve their abilities and he scoured the media for any possible mutant activity in the hope of finding more people.

Alex had suggested that he should bring as many mutants as possible to the manor and open a school, but the logistics of such an idea were problematic to say the least. Charles had heard them refer to him as 'Professor X' and Hank had even gone so far as to emblazon the wheels of his wheelchair with huge X's to solidify the name. But he didn't care about code names, they weren't important when compared to everything he'd lost. He knew he still had things, and people to fight for but knowing that his dear friend would one day cross him on the battlefield wasn't something that he wanted to think about.

The chess set across the room that they'd spent so many hours around now seemed to mock him cruelly, the pieces still standing as they had been since he'd last played the game with Erik. No one else in the manor played chess and no one had expressed an interest in learning it either. In every match they'd ever played Erik had insisted, each time, that he play the black pieces and Charles be the white. It was little details like that which hurt the most.

As he did every night, Charles had poured himself a drink but the scotch was long forgotten and he held the glass in his hand, watching the light play against the crystallised surface before his face twisted from pensive serenity into furious sorrow and rage. When he was alone at night it was difficult to control his anger and so, in an uncharacteristic fit of range he hurled the glass across the room where it smashed against the stone fireplace and shattered into a thousand tiny, irreparable pieces.

On his desk he caught sight of a silver frame inside which there was an image. A simple photographic image in black and white that meant more to him than his entire fortune and his abilities combined. It had been taken at the CIA base and they were all there; Moria, the Man in Black, Darwin, Angel, Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, with himself and Erik in the middle. It represented the good that had come from the dreadful events that had cost him so much.

* * *

Meanwhile, Erik Lehnsherr sat awake in a derelict warehouse that he and his 'friends' were occupying and had been for some time. He refused to use any of Shaw's properties that Azazel had volunteered to take them to which hadn't gone down well with Emma at all. She and Erik came to blows almost every day and it was mostly through intimidation that she was following his orders so far. It was so different from the way in which Charles had lead people. He inspired loyalty whereas Erik demanded obedience through cruelty.

Out of his new 'group', Azazel was the only one he begrudgingly respected. He was loyal because Erik had killed Shaw and thus replaced him. Angel was a coward who followed the orders of anyone stronger than herself. Riptide was a loose cannon who only wanted to destroy everything at any chance he got and Emma was even worse. It was going to take some time before he could execute properly formulated plans with such a rag tag group of mutants but he didn't see what else he could do.

Charles would never let him back and his pride wouldn't allow him to even consider it an option. He knew Raven missed her brother, but it had been her choice to leave just as it had been his. He believed that Charles would be fine and he tried not to remember the pain and agony he'd seen marring his friends' usually serene face. No, Charles would be fine, after all, Emma had said nothing to the contrary and she was a telepath, she may not be able to read Charles' mind, but she could see into his students' minds.

It was enough that he'd offered Charles the chance for them to fight together. He wasn't responsible for anything else. He hasn't wanted Charles to be injured but it had been an accident - at least that's what he tried to tell himself.


	3. Late November, 1963

**Late November 1963 - Set after JFK assassination**

* * *

"You need to stop blaming yourself," Erik commented as he moved his remaining black knight across the chess board.

"Who else can I blame when the fault is mine?" Charles asked, pondering the board as he took a drink of scotch from his glass.

"You could blame the people responsible," the older man sighed.

"I could've stopped it, I should have stopped it."

"You can't keep track of everything," Erik said.

"The effects of this won't be easily brushed aside," Charles sighed, "We'll need to keep a low profile for a while, as low and as quiet as possible."

"I know."

"If we draw attention to ourselves now we could risk everything and we won't be the only ones who pays the price," the professor said thinking of the others who resided in his house.

"I know," Erik repeated.

"But do you understand?" Charles asked and Erik was silent for a moment before he spoke calmly.

"I chose to return, I begged for your forgiveness when you told me I already had it. I know I have no right to ask after only two months...but haven't I earned back at least a shred of trust?"

"My friend, I trust you with my life."

"But not with theirs?"

"You'd never let anyone hurt them, I know you care just as much as I do, you can't hide that from me."

"I thought I told you to stay out of my head," Erik frowned.

"I'm not in your head. I agreed to a compromise but now...after what they did I think we need to change our plans."

"Our goal is still the same..."

"But the circumstances have changed. The President was assassinated by mutants! By the very people we want to protect. How can we protect mutants if we're too busy fighting against each other?"

Only hours ago they, along with the rest of the country had learned that President Kennedy had been assassinated. Assassinated by mutants. Specifically by Emma Frost, Angel and Riptide in such a way that brought mutants to the headlines. What made it worse was that the original plan had been Erik's.

"We remove them from the equation. You offered them a place here just as you did me and Azazel, we took it and they didn't. I admit I had begun to see Riptide as a brother in arms, I had the chance to convince him to join us and I failed. I am responsible for breaking Emma out of prison and she needed no encouragement to..."

"You could not have changed his mind, he'd been too long with Shaw for that and Azazel is here only because you are. While he respects my power he sees you has his General as Shaw was before you, he at least is more honourable - in a sense - than Riptide. Angel was the one I thought would return but clearly I was mistaken."

"She's spineless," Erik snarled.

"She's scared," Charles said, "Of Emma, of the world."

"That doesn't excuse what she helped to do."

"No?" the younger mutant raised an eyebrow. "Erik, do you know just how many times I've been reproached for my actions that night? You and your associates came to me but I allowed you to stay, I wanted you to stay and look at the good you've done here. Don't you see how happy Raven is? Even Azazel, a man who has committed wrongs just as you have, has found a place here among children he could easily kill."

"You wouldn't allow that."

"No, I wouldn't, but you're missing the point. He has been given a second chance despite all he's done."

"Some things are unforgivable," Erik hissed, remembering with bitterness, his actions that resulted in his friend taking a bullet in the spine.

"I forgave you for that."

"I swear I'll get the helmet again if you don't..."

"I was reading your face not your thoughts," Charles said patiently.

"...You may forgive me, but I'll never forgive myself," Erik admitted.

"Erik..."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Well I'm going to keep telling you. You made a mistake, so did I but we move on."

"What was your mistake?"

"Standing too close to a man, an angry man, able to deflect bullets," Charles answered with a smile.

"I...am...truly..."

"I know."

"You're too forgiving for your own good, Charles, and it's going to get you killed," Erik said soberly.

"Then it's a good thing you're here, isn't it?" Charles replied.

"..It should've been me..." the older man shook his head, "Not you. And this assassination...I could have... I could've been responsible for..."

"But you're not, you didn't do it."

"It was my plan...they changed the details but the basic idea behind it was mine. Kill the President, get attention for our kind..."

"Planning someone's murder isn't a crime and who's to say they wouldn't have done it anyway?"

"I still think we need to do more."

"Your approach is too destructive, we need a middle ground."

"And they've just made things more difficult for that middle ground."

"Yes, they have, but they've also proven my point; killing people won't solve our problems. It makes them worse."

"I stand by what I said that night; in penance for the wrongs I've done you, I will do as you say."

"You're not my servant, Erik - I don't want your servitude, I want your friendship."

"I destroyed it."

"You damaged it, and you're fixing it," Charles insisted.

"I don't understand you, Charles, I really don't."

"I'm a telepath. I'm bound to see things differently than other people," Charles gave a small smile.

"Emma doesn't. She's easy to understand."

"Emma isn't like me."

"Compared to you she's weak," Erik said. He'd spent months in her company and he'd quickly come to realise that Emma Frost - the White Queen - was a child compared to Charles Xavier when it came to telepathy.

"And for that I count my blessings," Charles said, "But that doesn't seem to have helped us lately, does it?"

"No, I suppose not."

"If I'd stopped them two months ago when they were here we wouldn't be in this mess and a man wouldn't be dead."

"Even if you knew this would happen you wouldn't have killed them."

"Probably not," Charles said, "But I let them go."

"It's as much my fault as it is yours. I didn't think either, I was too busy thinking about...well...it doesn't matter, it's done now."

"You're right, it's done. All we can do is decide on our next move."

"And what is that to be?"

"Let me think," Charles whispered, looking down at the chess board, "Aha," he exclaimed, "Mate in three," he said, moving a knight across the board.

"Not the chess move," Erik rolled his eyes.

"It's still my win," the telepath insisted.

"Fine, you win," Erik said, knocking over his king, "There, congratulations, now can we concentrate on the more important matter?"

"It's no fun when you quit," Charles pursed his lip.

"Sometimes I honestly think there's something wrong with you."

"Of course there is, Erik, I'm a telepath."

"Charles..."

"I don't know what we're going to do, but if I think of something you'll be the first to know and I hope you'll do the same."

"You know what I think we should do; find Emma and the others and kill them."

"What kind of message will that send out to other mutants? Do what we say or we'll kill you? How will that inspire confidence?"

"That's why I asked you."

"You won't kill them?"

"I am a man of my word, I haven't killed anyone, no matter how much they've deserved it, for two months now."

"Good, that's good."

"Hmm," Erik scoffed.

"Another game?" Charles asked, gesturing at the board.

"That'll be four in a row."

"I've a lot to think about and I do some of my best thinking over chess."

"About the game, yes, about life, not so much."

"Are you implying that I'm avoiding thinking about it?" the telepath replied quickly as Erik moved to refill their glasses.

"Yes."

"That was harsh, my friend."

"That was the truth," Erik smiled, handing one of the now full glasses back to Charles. "One more game, then," he said.


	4. January, 1965

**January 1965.**

* * *

"You're sure about this, Hank?" Charles asked.

"As sure as I can possibly be," Hank nodded, "I've run every test I can run and in theory it should work. It won't be a permanent fix but each shot will probably last between three and four weeks before it wares off completely. After a while your cells might start growing some resistance but I can't say how long that will take until we actually have some data to study."

It was late at night, just before midnight, much too late for anyone else to be awake so the two scientists were sat in the lab, a huge room in the underground levels, hidden from the world' view. Each and every surface was covered with beakers and phials, papers and large computers.

"I can't say I'm not curious," Charles admitted, frowning under the sterile lighting.

"Each time I tested your cells with it," Hank said, "It strengthened them, it didn't fix them but we can strengthen them I'm sure of that."

"You remember all those times I told you to drop this project?"

"How could I forget?"

"Maybe I was wrong, if this works it won't be just me we could help. People who've never been able to walk in their lives could, even if only for a time, benefit from this."

"But you want to be the lab rat."

"Of course I do, if it goes wrong, I don't want anyone else to pay the price."

"So far I've only exposed a small amount of your cells to the solution and that was under lab conditions in a Petri dish. It took several hours to see any change so I think it'll take a while longer for you to feel any effects, at least three weeks I'd say after the first dosage."

"And you've told no one about this?"

"No one," Hank shook his head, "But I think you should tell them. They know we're up to something and they know it's not to do with Cerebro."

"They'll find out soon enough," the young professor shrugged.

"You realise that even if this works better than we think, you probably won't be able to run well, if at all, and I wouldn't advise rock climbing either."

"I understand."

"And the risks could..."

"Hank, three years now you've been working on this and the first week you thought you could hide it from me. You've put endless hours of work into this and I won't waste that. I'm grateful you care, I really am and I want to try this. It's not as though it can worsen my condition, my legs are already useless..."

"I'm not saying it's likely but it would be much worse if you were completely paralysed."

"But at least I will have tried," Charles said, "If I don't I'll be wondering and looking back for the rest of my life."

"I thought that too," Hank sighed, "And I was wrong about those calculations. I don't want to make this worse for you."

"If it doesn't work it'll be my fault. Just because this opportunity arose it doesn't mean I have to take it. It's my choice."

"Yeah," the younger man nodded sadly. "It probably won't be pleasant but it'll be best if I inject the solution into your back where you were shot."

"I agree."

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"I don't see why not."

"Alright then, I'll help you up," Hank said.

"Much obliged," Charles smiled kindly.

The blue furred mutant gently lifted the professor from his wheelchair and let him rest on one of the hard, metal tables.

"You know this will hurt," Hank remarked slowly as he took out a long syringe.

"I'm well aware of that."

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Charles murmured with a sardonic smile.

"Professor, I..."

"Would it make you feel better if I said I could take control of your mind so you wouldn't have to do this consciously if you don't want to?"

"Not really, but I'll do it...If this goes wrong I'm a dead man, aren't I?" Hank let out a deep breath.

"In what sense?"

"Well, if Raven doesn't kill me, Magneto will and I'm not sure which would be worse."

"Stop stalling, Hank," Charles rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he nodded weakly, "Ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay...here goes," Hank steadied his hand before he injected the needle into the professors' lower back.

Charles bit down on his lip as he felt the needle dig into his flesh and it seemed to take an age before he took another breath. "Done," the scientist announced with relief.

"That...wasn't pleasant," Charles said with a shaky, nervous laugh.

"Well?" Hank questioned, "Do you feel anything?"

"Aside from a nagging pain in my back?" the professor raised an eyebrow, "No, nothing, but you said it would take time."

"Mine didn't take long to go wrong, I don't want that here."

"Stop worrying."

"If you won't worry about this, someone has to," Hank replied reaching for a stethoscope. "Your heartbeat's normal," he said after a moment.

"I could've told you that."

"You could lie, I'm no mind reader."

"Touché."

* * *

After two hours of careful monitoring in the lab with nothing at all amiss, Hank acquiesced and agreed to 'allow' Charles to go to bed with the promise that they'd take his vitals again when he woke.

But once the professor lay safely in his bed he found sleep impossible. He'd long since adjusted to the fact that he couldn't go for late night walks around the manor anymore, or even get up and sit at his desk to read without either asking for help or struggling to move himself. But it was the human condition to look for hope even after his years of immobility.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks, and on each day Charles' vitals were carefully monitored, but he began to feels increasingly painful twinges in his back. At first he thought little of it, after all, he'd had back pains before, he got them often in fact and it wasn't until he was doubled over the kitchen table one morning, unable to speak that he had to admit that it wasn't quite normal.

He'd been sitting in the kitchen with Erik across from him, they generally ate earlier than everyone else in the house, and the German was forced to drop his glass of water when a mental wave of shock and pain bombarded his mind. It was clear that that pain wasn't his and judging from the agonised look on Charles' face, he was the source.

"Charles?" Erik frowned, jumping up from his chair and rushing over to his friend, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing...nothing...I...it's..." Charles ground out but his words were muffled by the grunts and hisses of pain he couldn't hold back.

"Professor!" Hank cried as he ran into the room.

"What're you..." Erik began quickly.

"I felt it," he explained quickly, "What happened?"

"I don't know, he just keeled over!"

"I said it'd take time, didn't I?" Hank sighed, kneeling down by the professor.

"What would take time?" Erik asked, confused.

"...Wasn't e...expecting this..." Charles said to Beast.

"What are you talking about?!"

"I know, but there's been no adverse effects so far, so this has to be the culmination of your cells getting stronger."

"Let's...let's hope so...How long will this..."

"I don't know, but I need to get you to the lab..." Hank shook his head.

"Azazel," the telepath said quickly, mixing his mental words with his verbal ones.

The red skinned mutant appeared before them in a split second, just as confused as Erik was. He too could feel the distant pain that Charles was feeling because the telepath wasn't able to fully control his abilities through it. "The lab, please, quickly," Charles said to him, gesturing to himself and Hank.

With a brief nod he teleported the two down into the lab leaving Erik standing dumbstruck as the only witness when the others came rushing in a few seconds later.

* * *

After about an hour, Charles was taken from the lab to his bedroom after extensive tests by Hank. Once the blue mutant left the room and walked into the grand corridor to see that Erik, Raven, Alex, Scott, and Sean were waiting, leaning against the walls.

"Well?" Erik asked before anyone could speak.

"He's asleep," Hank said elusively.

"What have you two been up to?" the German demanded.

"It's a long story."

"You better get started then," Alex said.

"It's...I've been researching this for years, almost since...since Cuba..."

"Researching what?" Raven asked.

"Something that could help the professor walk again. He didn't want you to know...we didn't expect it to get this far...neither of us did but it's working."

"It's working!" Erik scoffed, "He was doubled over in agony!"

"We didn't know what would happen...I kept telling him not to risk it."

"Obviously he didn't listen," the German sighed.

"No," Hank said, "What should happen is that the damaged cells and unresponsive muscles in his legs will react to the serum we engineered and they'll be strengthened for a time before it wears off completely."

"So it's not permanent?" Raven asked, crestfallen and Hank shook his head.

"I doubt that's possible," he admitted, "I thought it would take longer than two weeks but..."

"Two weeks? Two weeks for what?" Sean asked.

"Since we injected it into his back," Hank answered quietly and his words were met with silence.

"What are you doing?" Raven furrowed her brow as Erik moved towards the door and gripped the handle, his knuckles white.

"What does it look like?" the German snapped.

"He's sleeping," Hank repeated.

"I heard you," Erik said over his shoulder, "But someone has to keep an eye on him...in case...something happens," he said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"If something did happen wouldn't we know about it like before?" Sean asked uselessly.

* * *

Erik stepped silently into the darkened room and was about to take a seat on the leather sofa for a long vigil but the sounds of movement on the bed made him pause.

"Hank said you were sleeping," he remarked.

"I was," Charles breathed, "You think much more loudly than he does."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I know."

"...How could you keep this from us?"

"I didn't know if it would work," the telepath shrugged as he slowly pushed himself up against the headboard.

"And is it? Was it working for you this morning?"

"It was doing what it was designed to do."

"Hmm," Erik scoffed.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure Hank thought that but look what happened when he tried one of his experiments on himself."

"This won't affect my abilities, it won't worsen my condition..."

"How can you be sure?!"

"Because I can feel my legs again," Charles told him, "That's what was wrong with me earlier. I've gotten used to not feeling the muscles anymore..."

"You only had to do this because of what I did," Erik sighed.

"I didn't have to do this," Charles replied, "I chose to do this."

"You wouldn't have even needed to make the choice if it hadn't been for me."

"I've had enough of hearing your self pity," the telepath rolled his eyes.

"So make me leave," Erik shrugged.

"You know I won't do that. But surely you've got something better to do than keep watch? I'm perfectly fine," Charles insisted.

"I'm keeping watch so you don't do anything even more stupid than you already have," Erik told him.

"I'm touched, my friend."


	5. Early October, 1963

**Early October 1963**

* * *

In the short week since he'd returned to the manor, Erik had made a point to avoid trouble, something he'd never really tried to do before, and he made sure that Azazel did the same. But it wasn't easy. Raven, especially, found it difficult. She wanted to avoid trouble but at the same time she wanted things to be normal between her and Charles. Granted he had given her the final say in leaving with Erik but it didn't take a genius to know that it had wounded him deeply that she'd actually left. He'd been bleeding in the sand and she'd hardly batted an eyelid in leaving him for Erik's 'cause'. Of course it had affected the way that Charles saw her. She was his oldest friend and she'd abandoned him for the man who was the reason for his injuries. He had a right to hold a grudge.

And Charles' students were nothing if not blindly loyal to the man who'd helped them control their abilities. Hank, Sean and Alex hardly even glanced at Erik and because Scott was young and impressionable, he quickly learned to dislike the German from watching his brother.

He watched from a ground floor window as Alex and his brother played on the grass, looking for all the world as two very normal children without a care in the world. As he walked on through the building he passed the doors to the library when a very familiar voice sounded in his mind, making him stop.

"_In here_," Charles' voice said to him.

Erik pushed open the door to the library and walked inside. He found the young lord of the manor sitting by one of the large windows with a large book on his lap. "You've been very quiet these last few days," Charles remarked.

"I thought it was for the best," Erik shrugged as he moved across the room and stood at the window.

"Maybe, but you won't make any progress. You said you want us to work together but you need to prove to them that they can trust you."

"That's not likely to happen any time soon," the German scoffed.

"And you've been avoiding me as well as them," Charles said.

"Stay out of my head," Erik hissed.

"Afraid of what I'll find?"

"You gave me your word..."

"I promised I wouldn't look for the events which prompted you to return - I haven't and I won't. But you have to understand that it's almost impossible for me not to skim someone's mind in a conversation...When I was in the hospital it was much worse, believe me, the doctors and nurses thought they were losing their minds. Not only were they hearing my thoughts but everyone else's in the building, and for a large radius around it as well because of the sedatives they kept giving me."

"I wonder why," Erik scoffed.

"Strangely though, they have no recollection of any of it," Charles smiled.

"Hmm."

"I don't want to be at odds with you, my friend so I won't lie, I know there's something on your mind. I know you haven't been sleeping. I understand that you're concerned that I'm being lax about our situation," the telepath stated. "But do you truly believe that I don't care?

"I never said..."

"I know that other mutants out there are in danger..."

"What are you planning on doing about them? Have you rebuilt Cerebro?"

"It's not finished yet," Charles answered.

"How long will it take?"

"It took Hank several years to build the first one, but it should it shouldn't take much longer now. We're both working on it and he does know what he's doing this time."

"What are you going to do then?"

"The same thing that I did before; go and talk to the people I find."

"And bring them here?" Erik asked.

"Yes."

"Someone is bound to notice."

"I don't doubt it," Charles said, "But I have an idea about that."

"What?"

"If I open my home as a school no one will think twice about it. I am a professor you know and I'm hardly short on space."

"...You really think that would work?"

"I don't see why not," the telepath shrugged, "I rather enjoyed having people to help."

"It wouldn't just learning to control their abilities you'd have to teach them. For this to even be believable you'd need dozen of teachers..."

"I know, but for now we'll have to do. I can't risk bringing other people in. I've already taken steps to get the place established as a school, it's just a matter of finding the students."

"You're sure about this?"

"You have a better idea?" Charles raised en eyebrow. "They'll be perfectly safe here and now that the CIA has proof of our existence they'll be looking for mutants as well, if they're not already."

"What about Azazel and me? I'm sure your 'students' wouldn't feel safe in recruiting more children with us here," Erik said.

"Actually, I was rather hoping you would help me."

"...By doing what exactly?" the German asked cautiously.

"At first, visit the people I find and talk to them."

"And then?"

"Help me to teach them," Charles said unreservedly.

"Me?"

"Yes," the telepath nodded.

"No, you've got the wrong person, I'm no teacher," Erik frowned.

"You could be," Charles said kindly.

"You've already seen that I can't, I'm not like you, I don't have it in me."

"Yes, you do, and I'm more than qualified to say that. It's going to take time before I can establish my home as a school, you may change your mind."

"Don't hold your breath, Charles," Erik replied.


	6. Mid December, 1962

**Mid December 1962**

* * *

It was a chilly, snowy night on which the young Scott Summers first arrived at the Westchester mansion. His older brother, Alex, had assured him that everyone residing in the large building was trustworthy and wouldn't ask him questions. The young boy had a difficult time in taking in his grandiose surroundings because he kept his eyes shut. He refused to open them. Naturally, the professor knew why, as did Alex, but no one else did.

Without Cerebro, Charles had only had his telepathic abilities to rely on when it had come to locating the boy and he'd had to touch the minds of thousands of people across state lines to find Scott. Understandably he was feeling a little tired but he was waiting in the kitchen, at the table on which lay plates of warm food, all of them, Scott's favourite dishes.

Alex led his brother through the manor by the hand, into the kitchen and gave the professor a smile.

"Hello, Scott," the man spoke.

"Wha...w...who's there?!" the boy stammered, nervously.

"_Be calm, Scott, I mean you no harm_," Charles told the boy's mind

"How did you do that?!" Scott demanded, "What are you?"

"I am a mutant, like you, but my mutation allows me insights into other people's minds."

"You can read minds?" Scott took hesitant steps back.

"Among other things, yes."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Charles Xavier..."

"You're the professor my brother told me about?"

"Yes."

"You helped him with his...powers?"

"I did," Charles nodded, though the gesture was lost on the boy, "And I want to help you as well."

"Alex said that...but..."

"But you are wary, naturally," the telepath said kindly. "You are also hungry and I have plenty of food here."

"It...does smell good," Scott admitted.

"It doesn't, doesn't it," Charles smiled.

"Come on, kid," Alex sad to his brother, giving his hand a gentle tug forwards. "You turn down free food and you throw everything I taught you out the window. I told you; you can trust the professor."

"...Okay..." the boy nodded and let his brother lead him to the table.

"Can you open your eyes for me, just for a moment?" Charles asked.

"No," Scott said quickly, "I can't."

"It erm...I was...away...for a while...it didn't happen all the time, but erm, he says it happens every time he opens his eyes now," Alex explained.

"Hmm," the professor hummed, "Well that won't do at all. I'm sure we'll think of something."

"I've tried everything," the boy sighed, "It just won't stop."

"And neither will we until we've found a way to help you," Charles said.

"...You really think you can help me?"

"I really do," the telepath answered honestly. "There's other people here, other people who've struggled just like you with abilities they can't control and believe me when I say that there's always way to help."

"Why? Why d'you even want to help me?"

"I know what it's like to want to hide yourself away because you're different, or because you don't want to hurt anyone. My own abilities developed when I was much younger than you, it took me years to develop any kind of control. I could hear what everyone around me was thinking, I could feel everything that they felt and they felt what I felt. There was no one I could go to for help."

"That does sound bad...but at least you can look at things without blowing them up," Scott muttered.

"Well, I promise you, I will do everything I can to help you," the professor told the frightened child who merely gave a grateful nod in response.

"Thank you," Alex said to Charles, an expression of genuine honesty on his face.

* * *

A.N. I think I read somewhere that Scott is supposed to be Alex's older brother, but since he's not mentioned at all in XM : FC I figured it doesn't really matter and this is an AU, so what ya gonna do?


	7. Early November 1966

**Early November 1966.**

* * *

It was early morning, minutes before dawn, and Charles and Erik were standing outside the manor waiting for the sunrise, as they had been for several hours. Erik hadn't been sleeping properly for days now but Charles had kept his word that he wouldn't pry into his friends' mind without permission. He could tell that there was something the German wanted to tell him, but he didn't know what and it was disconcerting - not knowing.

"It was July, '63, I'll never forget," Erik began, "The 10th...it was just before midnight when it happened...five years ago now..."

"My friend, you don't have to tell me anything..." Charles began.

"You still want to know," the German stated.

"Of course I do, but..."

"Then listen," the German said quickly and downed his entire glass of scotch, straight, "I'll tell you...I'll tell you in my own words."

"...Alright," Charles took a deep breath as he watched his friend left his now empty glass on the stone parapet and looked away.

"After I...left...after Cuba...it was a while before I had Emma look for other mutants...and it took her a while, in fact I'd begun to think she couldn't. But she seemed to think that this boy wanted to be found. She said it was like he was screaming in his mind for her to find him, like he knew she'd be looking...He could see into the future, Charles."

"Is that possible?" Charles raised a fascinated eyebrow.

"Surely you know that anything is possible," Erik replied.

"Go on," the telepath encouraged.

"We traced the boy to a derelict house in the middle of Texas...but he was...unstable. I tried to talk to him, he wouldn't really talk back, everything he said was...disjointed, it made no sense at all. So, Emma tried reading his mind...she collapsed about a minute later. When she came too all she wanted was to get as far away from the boy as possible. It was like she'd gone mad."

"What happened?"

"Turns out that predicting the future isn't straightforwards at all. But that wasn't all he could do; he had some telepathic abilities as well but his worked by touch so the helmet didn't make any difference. I told them to leave me alone with the boy and the minute they left he started at me...I'll never forget those eyes. They were white. He said 'let me show you' and he grabbed my hand...the next thing I know I feel like my head's being ripped apart."

"He...what...showed you the future?"

"Not quite. He showed me ten dozen possible futures, each one worse than the last. He showed me distant futures, they were the worst, but he also showed me other things. Things that he claimed would happen within the year...I hated every moment of it. It was...terrifying," Erik admitted. "I don't know how much time passed but I must have lost consciousness, when I opened my eyes I saw Azazel and Riptide holding the boy down, he was crying."

"That was what I saw in their minds," Charles nodded.

"Hmm," Erik affirmed. "Everything happened so fast after that...He said one last thing to me...and then he...he keeled over...he was dead before his head hit the ground. It was like all the life had left him the moment he finished speaking, like he was living for the sole purpose of speaking to us and he had nothing left...I never told any of them what he showed me that night. Not even Raven. Instead I made Emma take their memory."

"Why?"

"I wanted to forget about it, I thought he was lying. I thought it was a trick...I didn't want to believe that any of it, I didn't want to believe that anything he'd shown me was possible. I knew that false images could be shown to the mind so I thought that was all it was. But when things started to happen that he'd shown me it was difficult to dismiss. It was smaller things at first, I thought it was just coincidence but...after a while...I couldn't deny it..."

"What did he say to you? Why did you want them to forget it?"

"He told me...he told me much of what you did, actually," Erik answered.

"Meaning?"

"That every future I would try to build for our kind would be fuelled by hate, that I would become the very people I'd hunted over the years. He said the futures I would create, filled with anger and hate, drove him mad just to look at them. All those Nazi bastards and everything they did to me to all those people...and he had the gall to compare me to them! You can't imagine how angry I was. I didn't want them to mutiny."

"But you're here now, clearly you took some of what he said to heart. But why listen to him when you didn't listen to me?"

"I never wanted any of it to be true. That's never what I wanted, you know that. I don't want to replace the Nazi's or Shaw but I want us, as a race, not to be forced to hide away in fear."

"So do I," Charles stated.

"That's why I'm here...What I saw...what I saw was an angry, bitter old man who achieved nothing. I don't want that."

"I'm eternally grateful that you're here."

"That boy shouldn't have had to die. He was one of us, Charles, he had...he could've been...amazing. Can you imagine being able to predict everything, every possibility?"

"You blame yourself?"

"Of course I do, he said it himself; my anger and my hate filled futures drove him insane. You've no idea how that's haunted me."

"Even if he was...insanity isn't enough to kill," Charles said, staring intent at his troubled friend.

"You didn't see him that night, if you had you wouldn't say that," Erik shook his head.

"Then show me," the telepath spoke.

"What?"

"Let me see him in your mind."

"You could just look," Erik shrugged.

"I gave you my word that I wouldn't, and I've kept that promise," Charles said.

"You'll keep this to yourself?"

"If you wish it. But you know that one day, the memory blocks that Miss Frost placed on your...friends...may wear off one day."

"I'll deal with that if, and when, it happens," the German replied evasively, "...Yes...you can look," he added.

Charles raised his fingers to his temple and began searching for the memory in Erik's mind. It didn't take long. He saw the pale skinned boy with white hair and matching eyes. It was a striking sight. But what was more shocking was his expression, he looked desperate, depressed and exhausted. He had no energy and no life in his eyes. Erik, at the time, had seen images of people in the camps he'd been trapped in as a boy with the same expressions.

Through Erik's eyes, he watched the boy show him those horrible futures of people dying, of war between mutants and humans, of a bitter rivalry between himself and Erik that stretched on and on for decades. And then, the most violent scream came from the boy as he begged for something to stop, he clutched at his head and writhed on the dirty, wooden floor of the unprepossessing building. He saw the boy try to stand but he got as far as kneeling and then his screams stopped, he spoke for a moment, and then he fell down, dead.

"The boy...what was his name?" Charles asked after a minute.

"He didn't have one. Emma said that he'd been a runaway for as long he could remember and he didn't recall that he had one," Erik answered. "He was only a child," he muttered.

"Erik..."

"I still see his face, every time we find another I keep thinking...'will it happen again?' And I..." he broke off, turning to face his friend. He saw that Charles, though he was clearly listening intently, looked distracted and he leaned heavily against the parapet, a faint wince marring his features. "It's wearing off again, isn't it?" Erik sighed, watching his friend stand uneasily on his feet.

"I'm fine," Charles gave a smile.

"No, you're not. I know pain when I see it."

"There's no pain...just...discomfort," the telepath admitted slowly.

The serum that he and Hank had devised a few years ago, though extraordinary, still had its drawbacks. The main one being that it wasn't permanent and it appeared that this dose was beginning to lose its effects.

"You should have said something," Erik shook his head, "We've been standing out here for hours."

"I'm alright," Charles insisted.

"Like I'm going to believe that again...at least sit down."

"You're such a mother hen," the telepath chuckled as he lowered himself down against the parapet to sit on the grass. "Better?" he asked sarcastically.

"Much," Erik nodded.

"...Maybe we should make him a grave," Charles suggested after a minute.

"What would we write on it?"

"...I don't know...but he deserves something."

"...You're right," Erik nodded as the sun began to rise.


	8. Mid October,1963

**Mid October 1963**

* * *

Everything had all started out so simply, so ordinary - as ordinary as things could get in the Xavier mansion which was inhabited by mutants, at any rate. All things considered, it was to be expected that tempers would flare, things being what they were...

* * *

Charles and Erik were outside, talking as they moved across the extensive grounds of the manor. The morning was slightly overcast, but the birds were singing and the breeze was calm. Somehow, neither one now could recall how, they'd gone from discussing tactical plans to debating music within a very short amount of time. And neither one seemed to want to question it.

"I told you, German music is much more superior than..." Erik began again, looking down at his wheelchair bound friend.

"Nonsense, Germans don't have music," Charles laughed at the insulted expression on Erik's face.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one, English," the man stated with a smile.

"Hah, I'd like to see you try, mein Deutscher Freund."

"Think you could keep up?"

"Can you?" Charles raised an eyebrow as Erik promptly turned and ran across the grass.

Charles had a much more difficult time taking the same path and he knew that Erik was moving much slower than he actually could so that it was easy for him to keep up. It was times like this that made him very much aware of his losses. He'd never run again. It was such a simple thing he'd taken for granted before.

After a while they found themselves on the gravel pathway and Erik immediately noticed the sleek, dark blue car parked in the driveway, he couldn't help but gawk at it. He'd never had money and he'd never seen such an expensive looking car in all his life. So entranced by this, Erik didn't notice that Charles had caught up with him and took the opportunity for revenge.

"Argh!" Erik yelled, jumping back, "You ran over my foot!"

"You should pay more attention then," Charles replied.

"...Is that new?" the German asked, glancing back at the car.

"Like it? I'll let you drive it if you ask nicely."

Erik couldn't help but glance back at his friend and wonder why a man who was paralysed would spend money on cars which he could no longer drive. He didn't plan on asking, but of course, then he remembered that said friend was a telepath.

"I can't help it, I like cars," Charles shrugged, "...Sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he added when Erik frowned.

"That thing's got to be illegal, you could cause an accident," Erik muttered, glaring at the wheelchair that had ran over his foot.

"Rubbish, I have it on good authority that these are regulation wheels," he patted the arms of his wheelchair for emphasis.

"You would say that," Erik snorted in good humour.

"Naturally," the telepath said, "Don't insult a man's wheels, Erik."

"I'll remember that."

While Charles and Erik laughed, Alex watched confused and angry. He'd been sitting across on the grass attempting to read a book that the professor had assured him he'd like. But once he'd seen Erik with the professor he found his concentration had begun to fade. He couldn't understand it. The professor could still trust Erik after everything that had gone between them and he just couldn't wrap his mind around it no matter how hard he tried. He'd talked to Sean about it, he'd talked to Hank and he'd even talked to even the professor himself but it just didn't make any sense to him at all. It got him so angry just thinking about it and it made his blood boil. He shook his head and went storming across the grounds and soon found himself standing before the two mutants.

"That's it! I've had just about enough of this!" Alex yelled. "How can you keep acting as though nothing's changed?!"

"Alex..." Charles began.

"Professor, he's nothing but trouble! After everything he's done, you can't just let him stay here!"

"That's not up to you," Erik stated calmly, reminding himself not to make things worse.

"We'll see about that," Alex muttered.

The young blonde tossed his book aside and tackled Erik to the ground then he began punching the German, violently. Unfortunately for him, Erik was a much better fighter than he was and the German wasted no time in defending himself. It was easy for him to throw off the younger man. He got to his feet quickly and blocked the next few hits that Alex swung at him.

"Stop," Charles ordered Alex and he suddenly found that he couldn't disobey. He was frozen to the spot and no matter how much he screamed in anger in his head, the professor wouldn't release him. "_Alex, calm down, this won't achieve anything,_" Charles spoke in Alex's mind. He released his mental hold on the younger mutant who now stood on shaky legs, breathing heavily.

"Professor..."

"Alex, go back inside the manor," Charles said patiently.

"But I..."

"Now," the telepath reiterated and Alex let out a frustrated breath before spinning on his heel and walking off.

"Just tell me why," the young mutant said after a moment. He stopped walking and turned back around to face the professor. "He could leave again, he could hurt any one of us and you'd just forgive him all over again."

"You were there, Alex, you that know what happened was an accident," Charles stated.

"Him killing Shaw wasn't an accident! It wasn't an accident that he almost blew up all those ships! And it wasn't an accident that got you shot!"

"People make mistakes," the telepath said, "What matters is that we learn from them," he added and Alex scoffed.

"He hasn't learned," the young mutant muttered quietly, his anger mounting.

"What would you know? You haven't been through half of what I've endured. I had a right to do what I did but I..."

"You see! He hasn't learned at all."

"Yes he has," Charles replied, "I should know. I am a telepath."

"This is just..." Alex breathed quickly, his arms beginning to glow with angry, red energy.

"Alex, be calm," the professor warned.

"How in the hell can I be calm?!" Alex yelled and just before Charles could bring some calm to his troubled mind, he seemed to explode without warning.

"Alex!" Charles yelled but it was too late. Alex's power had become uncontrollable in his anger and he wasn't wearing his suit to enable him to control it. The blast was wild and uncontrollable and it spiralled outwards, swiftly moving towards Erik and Charles, whether by intent or not, they weren't sure.

Erik leapt out of the way but as he landed on his knees he looked back to see that Charles was still there. He'd forgotten that he hadn't been standing there alone and now it looked as though, once again, he was going to be the cause of injuring his friend further.

"Charles!" Erik cried, staring in horror as the blast hurtled towards the professor.

Without thinking further, he glanced around, quickly remembering the car in the driveway. He acted quickly and lifted the car up into the air without even looking, and he threw it forwards just in time for it to catch the blast of red energy before it could hit Charles. The car took the full force of the blast and Erik had to focus on keeping it in place in mid air until it stopped.

The blast instantly set the car ablaze with growing flames and he had a difficult time of keeping it safely away from Charles. Luckily, the blast was fading and once it was gone completely, he wasted no time in tossing the useless hunk of metal and flames away from Charles and it rolled along off the gravel path and onto the grass before coming to a halt, the movement over the ground was enough to douse the flames.

"Professor, I...I..." Alex began, too shocked to speak. It was a double shock; shocked that he'd just lost control of himself, and shocked that Erik had just protected the professor.

"I know. It was an accident," Charles said, calmly, "Much like what happened on the beach," he added.

"But that..."

"You were both angry, you weren't paying attention."

"I'm so sorry," Alex shook his head.

"It's not me you should be apologising to."

"But I nearly..."

"But you didn't, I am fine."

Alex turned to the German and gritted his teeth in a momentary show of defiance but it quickly faded when he remembered what he'd almost done. He could have killed the one man who trusted him explicitly because he'd gotten so angry at a man who'd previously done a similar thing.

"I...I'm...I'm sorry," Alex said to Erik, "I...I didn't..."

"It doesn't matter," Erik said after a minute, glancing from Alex to Charles. He then turned, after a small nod to Charles, and stalked back towards the manor.

"Professor, I really am sorry, I didn't want to..."

"I understand, Alex, but you need to understand something too," Charles said patiently. "If you allow your anger to consume you, you'll make the same mistakes that he did. Now, is that what you really want?" he asked, and went to follow Erik.

"I'm such an idiot," Alex growled to himself once the professor was out of ear shot and flopped down onto the ground. He threw his arms over his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at their retreating backs or at the blackened and withered husk that was left of the car.

* * *

"You realise, of course, that I'll have to replace that car now," Charles said as he caught up with Erik.

"Charles, you probably have dozens of cars," Erik replied tersely.

"No, I had one dozen - I had twelve, but now I only have eleven."

"Oh, 'only'...my mistake," the German scoffed.

"And I was really quite fond of that one."

"Well, the next time you're about to be burned to a crisp, I'll take that into consideration."

"Damaged property aside...thank you, Erik," Charles said, seriously.

"I said I'd protect you."

"And I told you that I didn't want or require a bodyguard, but as a friend, I think I can tolerate you destroying my cars."

"The car again," Erik rolled his eyes and Charles laughed.

"I could take the cost out of your paycheque."

"I don't have a paycheque."

"If I ever get the chance to go along with this 'school' idea, I could employ you as a teacher and then I could give you a paycheque."

"I told you I won't teach anyone anything; I've nothing to teach," Erik sighed deeply.

"I think you're wrong."

"You usually do."

"You know that's not true," the professor shot back.

"No?"

"No," Charles repeated, "We have our differences, and naturally I believe I'm right just like you do, but no one is always right," he said and for a minute Erik didn't speak.

"...I'm making things difficult by being here," the German said, breaking the silence.

"It'll pass, trust me; people need time to accept these things."

"We don't have time."

"Yes, we do."

"What about Alex? It's clear he doesn't share your view. He could be a danger to..."

"It's fine, Erik, just give him time and space...Now, I just have one question I want you to answer."

"What's that?" Erik asked.

"How long do you think it'll take for everyone to start talking about how you destroyed my new car?"

* * *

mein Deutscher Freund - my German friend


	9. Late May, 1966

**Late May, 1966**

* * *

"How much...further?" Erik asked, breathing heavily, forgetting for a moment that he didn't need to speak aloud. Charles was able to communicate to his mind and perfectly able to hear his response via his thoughts. But he had been navigating the concrete built, underground tunnels for, in his opinion, a far greater amount of time than he was happy with. It was beginning to bring back some painful memories and he was aware that Charles would know this.

"_You're almost there_," Charles answered in his mind, "_Take the next right and open the second door, the combination is 23971._"

"_Guards_?"

"_Four, all frozen for the moment_."

"_You know, Charles, you take all the fun out of espionage_," Erik thought back.

"_You're welcome_."

"_How's our unexpected distraction coming along_?" the German asked as he rounded the next corner and typed in the access code, taking care not to jostle the sleeping men.

"_I think Raven is rather enjoying herself far too much_."

"_I don't blame her_," Erik chuckled.

"_As her older brother, I'm rather concerned that you've corrupted her with your illegality_," Charles remarked.

"_It didn't take much effort on my part, trust me_," Erik deadpanned, smiling as he flicked on the lights. A large room was revealed under sterile lighting, filled with metal filing cabinets and thick safes built into the walls. "Jackpot," he muttered.

"_You're enjoying this far too much, my friend_."

"_So sue me_," the German replied quickly. "_Where am I looking_?" he asked.

"_There should be a safe behind a panel in the west wall_," Charles said and Erik placed his hands against the wall, expanding his senses to locate the metal in the concrete wall. He quickly found it on the lower sections of the wall and, after Charles gave him the combination, he opened it. "_Find the file called 'Operation Imelda' and replace it with the one Alex gave to you...and you best be quick; Azazel is almost ready to meet you_."

"_Imelda_," Erik repeated incredulously, "_Who's idea was that_?" He stowed the document inside his jacket where the forged one had previously rested and then he closed the safe, leaving it as he had found it.

"Comrade," Azazel spoke as he appeared in a puff of black smoke behind Erik.

"Let's go," the German nodded.

'Operation Imelda' was a CIA plan which would initially locate and recruit mutants, but it was the second phase of the plan which worried them; it involved experimentation ideas on the mutants they 'recruited'. Naturally, Erik had been furious, saying all along how he'd been right and that he would take his revenge by slaughtering each and every man and woman within the facility. Charles' plan had been a little more covert. His plan had been to eradicate all traces, both tangible and memorised, of the Operation before it could even start.

Alex had gone to another office on site and had removed the primary plans, Erik went to the safe while Raven posed as one of the agents responsible for the creation of the plans and wiped the computer records, replacing them with another, less harmful plan. Whilst she'd been doing that, however, an agent had walked into the office and she'd decided to distract him rather than allow Charles to simply freeze him. She'd distracted him in such as way as Angel would have been proud, her brother on the other hand was less than impressed.

Azazel had taken Alex into the facility leaving Erik to make his own way, insisting that it was better to take the opportunity to learn what he could about the site while he had the chance. The telepath had already wiped the minds of everyone who knew even the name 'Operation Imelda'. He alone had uncovered the full extent of the plans when he used Cerebro to infiltrate the minds of those responsible for its creation and though he'd told his friends of the basic idea, he'd not divulged every last detail.

"_Raven, that's enough, I'll send Azazel to get you. We're done here_," Charles told her and she sighed.

"_Really_?" she asked.

"_Really. This wasn't meant to be fun_," he replied.

Erik and Azazel stepped out of the maximum security safe room and the German locked the door, leaving all as he'd found it so's not to raise any suspicion. As he turned he eyed the frozen guards and once again his anger surfaced. He knew that these specific men hadn't created the plan and that they were merely following orders in guarding the facility, but it still made his blood boil. Erik took stock of the gun at the nearest man's side and he went to reach for it.

"_Erik, don't_," Charles warned.

"_Charles, we can stop this plan, and the next one and the next one, but they'll keep on coming. The only way we can..._"

"_Killing them isn't the answer and you know it_," the telepath interrupted and Erik sighed in frustrated agreement. "_Azazel, Raven is in the office you left her in_," he said in a more business-like manner.

The red skinned mutant nodded and after lightly touching Erik's shoulder, teleported them both to Raven's location and then out into their car. Alex was already there in the driver's seat and the second they appeared, he turned the key in the ignition.

Erik took out the considerable file he'd removed from the facility and opened it, glancing down at the first page. "I'll take that, thank you," Charles said, holding out his hand.

"You never did get around to telling us just what was so terrible about these plans," the German remarked. "I've seen more than enough of government experiments to know that it won't involve little tea parties," he said through gritted teeth, clutching the file.

"I know, Erik, I think you've seen more of that than anyone should," Charles said grimly.

"So don't take me for some naïve little child, you know I'll find out and I'd rather you told me about it first."

Charles buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I suppose I haven't been very forthcoming, have I?" he murmured.

"Not exactly, prof," Alex gave a sad smile in the mirror as he drove.

"...Miss Frost is working with the CIA," the telepath confessed, "With Agent Stryker and Agent McCone, more specifically."

"What?!" Erik yelled, "For how long?"

"A few weeks now, 'Operation Imelda' was mostly her idea."

"Why would she..." Alex shrugged helplessly.

"She doesn't care about mutants, she only wants war. At first she went along with your recruiting plans, Erik and her goal was to find mutants for her cause but now..."

"She's replaced Shaw," Erik hissed.

"Yes," Charles nodded sadly. "No one in the CIA actually knows that she's a mutant - she is a telepath, all they know is that she's very 'anti mutant'."

"And Angel and Riptide are just going along with this?" the German said incredulously.

"It appears so," Charles answered, "Along with the others she's found."

"When were you planning on telling us?" Erik pinned his friend with an accusing stare.

"...I don't know..." the telepath breathed and leaned back in his seat, the exhaustion clear on his face.

His legs and back were both paining him and he had kept a tight lid on his discomfort all night, but being inside so many minds in order to carry out their plan had made it very difficult. He'd hardly slept since he'd first discovered Emma's secret and that hadn't been easy with her being a telepath able to resist his mental intrusions. Along with that, he'd been relying more and more on Cerebro to locate more mutants, after a while it became very tiring but once they were found and brought to the manor they needed training as well. Charles knew he needed to rest but there was always something else that needed to be done.

"Charles," Erik said.

"Hmm?" the telepath hummed without opening his eyes.

"We can hear your thoughts. You're projecting," the German told him and he furrowed his brow.

"...Apologies," Charles replied, snapping the lid firmly down on his thoughts once again. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been letting them loose, that's how tired he was.

"You're exhausted," Erik stated.

"I'm fine."

"Lair," Raven muttered.

"I'm gonna agree with Mystique on this one, prof," Alex remarked, "You look beat."

"Much obliged, Alex," Charles muttered.

"You need to rest," Erik told him.

"I am resting, I'm closing my eyes," the telepath replied stubbornly.

"You need real rest."

"And I'll get it as soon as we get back."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Erik muttered back.

"So...these Agent guys...are they gonna be a problem?" Alex asked after a minute.

"Stryker and McCone," Charles said heavily, "...Yes...they're shaping up to be a considerable problem, I'm afraid," he said.

"Nothing we can't handle," Raven replied.

"Don't underestimate them just because they're not mutants," Charles said. "Agent Stryker's mind in particular is...disciplined...ordered...different," he finished.

"What does that mean?" Azazel asked.

"It means that, combined with Miss Frost, they're a force to be reckoned with. They know about Shaw's helmet...she told them, which means whatever else she's planning she doesn't want me knowing about it."

"Could they...make one of them?" Raven asked.

"Quite possibly," Charles nodded.

"Then we do have a problem," she frowned.

"Yes, yes we do," he agreed.


	10. Late December, 1963

**Late December, 1963**

* * *

"You want to give this to me?"

"Mmm-hmm," Charles nodded. He was sat in the doorway while Erik circled the large private lounge / study. It was attached to a bedroom via a door on the right and a bathroom to the left.

"Me?" Erik blinked, incredulously.

"Mmm."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why? I'm fine where I am," Erik said.

"Erik, you chose a dark room in the draughtiest part of the house, it's needed refurbishing for as long as I can remember and..."

"It doesn't matter what the room is like, I could sleep in the cellar here and it would still be the best of all the places I've ever lived in."

"That's not the point."

"No, the point is, I don't deserve this. Let Hank have it, or Sean or Alex or even the kid..."

"They have their rooms, what you're sleeping in isn't even a bedroom, it was used for storage."

"Well, it's a bedroom now."

"Dragging a mattress in there doesn't make it a bedroom," Charles frowned.

"It does to me."

"Not to me, and this is my house. You've been sleeping in there for far too long now and I won't let you distract me again."

"And forcing me to take me an entire suite of rooms in this...palace...is what, your warped sense of hospitality?"

"I suppose you could say it's my way of telling you that there will always be a place for you here if you want it. I know you chose that room because it's out of the way and you think you're exiling yourself...and no, I didn't read your mind, I can understand your psyche perfectly well without having to rely on it."

"But this is just..." Erik trailed off as he took in the grand surroundings.

The room looked as though it had been furnished for a king. The walls were made of dark wood at the bottom and a deep painted green on the top. There was an old wooden desk, thick curtains and plush Persian rugs on the dark, wooden floor. There was two, large sash windows with double doors in the middle which opened out onto a small balcony overlooking the vast grounds.

"I can never remember seeing these rooms used, but all things considered, it's not surprising; there are a lot of rooms here," Charles laughed quietly and wheeled himself into the room. "I want you to be comfortable here but I don't want you to feel as though I'm trying to bribe you into staying. I'd rather you stayed, of course, but the choice is yours, as it always has been."

"What if I say 'no'?" Erik asked, "What if I don't want them?"

"Then by all means go back to sleeping in a storage room...If you need a reason to accept this then I could call it a Christmas present, or a birthday present...or even a..."

"I've done nothing to earn any gifts," the German told him.

"Ah, but that's the beauty of receiving presents, you don't have to earn them," Charles smiled. "And besides, if you don't use them they'll just be left empty and it would be a shame to waste these rooms."

"Then why don't you use them?"

"Erik," Charles shook his head, "If you don't like them, there's plenty of other..."

"It's not that. I do like them, who wouldn't? But I told you, I don't..."

"Then they're yours," the telepath said before Erik could continue.

The German sighed, realising he was fighting a loosing battle. Charles would only continue to pester him about it and he couldn't deny that the rooms were stunning. It would be difficult to adjust to the concept of living in his own suite of rooms in a manor house fit for royalty when he was so used to living out of a small suitcase in dirty hotel rooms and worse.

* * *

What little Erik had was easily moved from the smaller room he'd been inhabiting to the large suite of rooms. It felt surreal, like a distant dream from which he'd wake up any minute and realise that he was back in his storage room / bedroom.

Once his clothes were folded away in the antique, very expensive looking wardrobe he sat down on the four poster, oak bed and reached into his pocket. He took out the old German, silver coin which he'd kept after so many years and then he took out a bullet as well - the bullet that could have killed his first real friend. The monentary value of both amounted to very little, almost nothing in fact, but their emotional value simply couldn't be understated.

Erik hadn't initially kept the bullet, it had been several days before he'd had Azazel return him to the beach so that he could retrieve it and for many people, it would've been like looking for a needle in a haystack, but with his abilities it had been easy. The bullet was metal, after all. Both the coin and the bullet were of special significance and both had changed his life in some way so he couldn't bring himself to part with them. Most people had photographs, books or old heirlooms to remember a life - all he had was the odd memory, a coin and a bullet.

After stowing both pieces of metal safely away inside a drawer, he walked over to one of the sash windows and raised the glass to gaze out at the landscape under the gentle glow of the moon.


	11. Mid October, 1965

**Mid October, 1965**

* * *

It was the middle of the night and Erik Lehnsherr was wide awake in his rooms reading a book by gentle lamp light. One of the many things he appreciated about his suite of rooms was that the study had a considerable library which was very useful when it came to his insomnia. It was during these long hours that he liked to keep track of anything or anyone that could be moving inside, or outside the house. Whilst he read he used his abilities, making him aware of every piece of metal within the large manor and just as he was about to turn a page he heard a quiet echoing of a small amount of it moving. It meant that he wasn't the only one awake in the building anymore.

He waited for several minutes before rising from his desk and standing up to walk silently through the corridors, following the moving metal. It didn't take him long to be lead directly to the underground garage where he saw just who was awake.

Charles had taken to using a black cane to aid him when it came to walking after a while, and he leaned against it as he moved towards a nondescript, black car.

"Charles...what are you doing?" Erik asked, moving in the shadows.

"I don't have time to explain now," the telepath said, shaking his head without a trace of surprise. Of course he wasn't surprised, he was a telepath.

"Then you'll have to tell me on the way," Erik said, opening the car door as Charles started the engine.

"Erik..."

"Aren't you in some kind of a hurry?" the German asked smugly and Charles only sighed as he drove off.

* * *

"So, why the rush?" Erik asked as they sped down a quiet road, "I never thought you were one for sneaking around."

"I didn't want to wake anyone. I left a note in case this takes longer than I planned since I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen."

"What does that mean?"

"It means...that Darwin is alive," Charles said, turning for a second to glance at his friend's reaction.

"That's...not possible," Erik replied, confused.

"Ordinarily, no, but his ability was being able to adapt to any given situation in order to survive. His body was completely destroyed by Shaw but I felt his mind not a half an hour ago. It was like it'd just woken up after a long sleep...it was so intense."

"Are you sure it wasn't just a..."

"I know the different between a dream and reality. I know that he's alive. Whether you believe me or not is up to you."

"...People can't just..."

"What? They can't return from the dead? Just like they can't read minds, or control metal."

"Point taken," Erik frowned.

"I'm not sure how he did it or even if he was aware of doing it, but I believe that the molecules that made up his body were able to somehow regenerate and piece themselves back together."

"...After almost three years?"

"Evidently," Charles shrugged elegantly while Erik let out a quiet snort of awed disbelief.

"Haven't you considered the possibility that this could be a trick?"

"Of course I have, which is why I was planning to go alone, but I knew you'd realise that I was going."

"You could've stopped me," Erik replied.

"But I didn't."

"Hmm," the German hummed, "What would you have done if this turned out to be a trap and you'd gone alone?"

"I shouldn't have to remind you that I'm more than able to defend myself, and I wanted to go alone because...because I don't want to get their hopes up," Charles said.

"You speak as though they were still children," Erik scoffed.

"That wasn't my intention. I know this all sounds..."

"Crazy," Erik supplied.

"Extraordinary," Charles said, "But they watched him die and they felt powerless to stop it. I know it wasn't my fault but I can't help but feel responsible; I tracked him down and convinced him to join us and then I left him unsupervised..."

"He wasn't alone, and he was more than capable of protecting himself."

"Not against Shaw," the telepath gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.

"He made the choice to oppose Shaw..."

"Exactly. He wasn't accustomed to being around other mutants. He was too used to seeing himself as different from others that he thought he was invincible. If I'd trained them sooner..."

"There wasn't time, you know that."

"I know. It doesn't make it any easier though."

* * *

After several hours of driving, during which time Erik and Charles discussed various topics, they arrived at the CIA research base. The last time they'd seen it, there'd been nothing but a smouldering pile of rubble left in the wake of Shaw's vicious attack but now, all traces of murder and chaos had been wiped away. Everything had been rebuilt, replaced exactly the way it had been before.

"I wonder if they gave their men places to be remembered," Erik mussed.

"Erik, please," Charles sighed, raising his fingers to his temple as he concentrated. "His mind is in chaos...he doesn't understand...he's afraid..."

"What..."

"Over there," the telepath spoke, walking off uneasily, using his cane in one hand with the other still pressed to his temple.

As they moved, Erik continued to glance around in case they were discovered sine Charles seemed rather distracted. "We're in no danger of being discovered," the telepath told him a second later. "There are over sixty people in that building and not a one of them has realised, or will realise that we're here."

"Charles..."

"I know and I'm sorry, I can't help but hear your thoughts at the moment. I am inside the minds of over sixty people, remember, one of which is extremely traumatised," Charles said.

As though they owned the place, the two mutants walked into the building and through the corridors while everyone else remained frozen where ever they stood. Even though he'd seen it several times before, this display of power, never failed to impress Erik. After a few minutes, they came to the courtyard that was exactly the same as they remembered it, save for a dozen more plants and bushes around the edges. It was towards some of these plants that Charles walked towards with Erik following him. Lying hidden behind the thick growth of plant life was Armando Muñoz himself but something wasn't quite right. His body seemed unstable. His form was flickering and his limbs shook uncontrollably.

"Darwin," Charles whispered, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on Darwin's arm. "_Armando, be calm_."

"W...who..."

"Shhh," Charles smiled, "You're safe now, we won't harm you."

"Y...you...I know..."

"Yes, you know me. My name is Charles Xavier," he said then turned to Erik. "Erik, help him up, we have to get him away from here," the telepath added, grimacing as he put pressure on his cane when he pushed himself up again.

Darwin, however, didn't seem to like this plan. When Erik moved to help the young mutant get to his feet he tried to shuffle away on shaking limbs. "_Calm down, Darwin, he won't harm you. He is my friend_," Charles told him mentally and he gave a confused nod.

As quickly and as carefully as he could, Erik helped an uncoordinated Darwin into the back seat of the car and then he took Charles' place at the wheel. The telepath nodded and Erik started the engine. A minute after, Charles finally lowered his hold on the minds of the CIA workers and he let out a sigh of relief as he leaned back in his seat.

"That went better than I expected," he remarked, glancing in the rear view mirror to see that Darwin was fast asleep."He's asleep," Charles breathed.

"How is this even possible? Does this mean...that he can't be killed...ever?" Erik turned to him.

"...I don't know," Charles confessed.

* * *

Once they returned to the manor it was still relatively dark out and luckily, no one had woken up early enough to learn that they'd been gone. They moved Darwin into one of the many bedrooms and left him sleeping comfortably while they retreated to Charles' study, lighting the fire and resting in the arm chairs before it.

"Are you going to tell them?" Erik asked him.

"Later," Charles nodded.

"He seemed very...distant," the German remarked, "Do you think he'll be the same?"

"I certainly hope so, once he's had time to adjust. I'd imagine that being pieced back together, molecule by molecule, doesn't do wonders for ones immediate sanity. I'm keeping an eye on him, don't worry. He won't be waking for hours yet, I'll make sure of it."

"And what..."

"Hank's waking up," Charles said before Erik could speak, "I'm hungry, are you hungry?" he asked suddenly and jumped up from his chair.

"Charles..."

"I'm thinking...a full English, it's been a while since I had one of those," the telepath spoke quickly and opened the door, "Coming?" he asked.

"Yeah," Erik sighed, following his friend to the kitchen.

* * *

"Whoa," Sean blinked as he stumbled, blearily eyed, into the kitchen. He was the last one to wake and as such, he entered the room, following the delicious scent of bacon, eggs, beans and sausages to find everyone else sat around the table.

"Sit down quick, before Beast eats it all," Alex said with a mouth full of beans.

The entire surface of the table was littered with plates and bowls all filled with food which was disappearing fast. Their conversation was idle enough until the plates were empty and everyone leaned back in their chairs and Charles took a deep breath after glancing at Erik.

"There's...something you all need to know," Charles began, steepling his fingers on the table.

"Yeah, you don't cook as much as you should," Sean nodded, wiping the last of the bean juice up with another slice of bread before he ate it.

"I'm serious, Sean," the professor said and the smile left Sean's face.

"...What's wrong?" Raven asked him.

"Last night...last night I heard a voice in my mind, I didn't believe it at first but...it was Darwin..."

"...B...but he..." Alex stammered.

"He's alive, Alex, Erik and I found him..."

"Charles, he can't be...we watched him..." Raven began, shaking her head.

"I know you did, but he is alive...and he's in the manor," he said.

"What?! When did he...how did he even..." Sean blinked.

"I'm not sure, but Hank, once he's...recovered...I want you to run some tests. When we found him he was extremely disoriented and his memory could be affected," Charles said.

"...Can we see him?" Alex asked, incredulously.

"Not yet, he's asleep, and I plan to keep him that way for a while longer. He needs to rest."

"He's been 'resting' for three whole years and I..."

"I know you care about him, all of you, but until we can understand just how this happened we won't know the toll that it's had on him. All I do know is that his mind was in tatters - it still is, his dreams are...disturbing. I'm keeping his thoughts calm so that he can recover sooner, but I'm asking you to be patient...please," Charles said to them.

"...When do you want me to run the tests?" Hank asked after a minute.

"I'll let you know...as soon as his mind stops screaming," the professor answered grimly.

* * *

Time passed slower than they would have liked and hours turned into days before Charles was confident enough to wake Darwin up. Four days it took for him to spend every minute that passed inside the tormented and shattered mind of a man who had died, during which time he got little to no sleep. He hid it as well as he could but his friends knew him too well.

"Charles, this has gone on for long enough," Erik accosted him on the fourth morning. "You can't keep this up forever," he said.

"Here we go again," Alex sighed, throwing himself down on one of the many sofas in the main living room.

He and the others were sat around the television and Charles had just walked in. The telepath hadn't even had the chance to say 'good morning' before Erik had shot up and spoken. Not that they blamed him, in fact, they supported him. They too had seen just how far the professor would push himself to help others but they'd also seen just what the consequences of his diligence could mean for him.

"I'm fine, Erik," the telepath said, as he had done each day.

"Have you seen yourself? I've seen corpses with better colour," Erik told him.

"Thank you very much," Charles replied, sarcastically.

"I mean it," the German spoke with conviction. "I've seen you like this too many times and I won't sit by and let you go through it again. Either you stop now - willingly, or I make you."

As Erik and Charles attempted to stare each other down, the tension seemed to thicken as fearful eyes took in the scene.

"You really think you could?" Charles questioned.

"I'll give it a damn good try," Erik answered, "And even if I can't, you'll still be too distracted to stay inside Darwin's mind. Either way, this stops."

"I'm doing this for him, I'm not doing it to be stubborn."

"He doesn't need to be kept asleep forever, he needs to learn what happened to him. You can't protect him from it..."

"I'm not trying to..."

"No?" Erik said quickly. "You said you blamed yourself, aren't you just trying to keep him from learning about your failure?"

"That's not true."

"Really? Then wake him up. Wake him up so you can sleep."

"Erik..."

"Charles, he's a grown man. Everyone has to face their demons Erik said and Charles sighed, lowering his head.

"Alright...alright..." the telepath breathed slowly, finally realising his calming hold on Darwin's mind. "He'll wake up soon," he said, walking from the room.

* * *

Once Hank gave Darwin the 'all clear', or as much of an 'all clear' as he could give under the circumstances, it didn't take long for his friends to congregate outside the bedroom door while Erik and Charles spoke inside with Darwin. When they emerged they saw the mutants waiting eagerly, mutants who waste son time in shuffling quickly towards them.

"Well, can we see him?" Alex asked before be could speak.

Charles glanced at Erik and they both knew that trying to keep them out would be an exercise in futility so he merely nodded.

"Just be gentle with him," Charles warned them and they all but ran past him.

* * *

"Hey, pal, long time no see," Alex grinned down at his friend.

"...Alex?" Darwin blinked, "Sean...Raven...That really you guys?"

"It really is," Sean smiled.

"Ohh...what happened to me?" Darwin groaned, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the soft pillows.

"You...don't remember?" Raven asked slowly.

"Not really," he shook his head. "The professor wouldn't say...he wouldn't tell me yet...last thing I do remember is...guys droppin' outta the sky and then...then Angel...she went off with those...Where is he? Where's that guy...Shaw...where is he..."

"Whoa, calm down, you're a ways behind," Alex said. "Shaw's gone, he's dead."

"...When did that happen?"

"About three years ago," Sean blurted out and Alex elbowed him.

"T...three years? Three years?!" Darwin exclaimed, "Where the hell have I been for three years?"

"Erm...well...you sort of...I mean..." Alex stammered, looking at his friends for help.

"What he means is," Raven began, "There was a...a fight...and you...Shaw kind of..."

"What?!" Darwin yelled before he let out a short breath of realisation when he saw their faces. "I...I was dead...I died...didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," Alex said quietly.

"But...you said he's dead...I didn't...I don't think I..."

"No...Erik did," Raven said.

"Pushed a coin right the way through his head," Sean scoffed and Alex elbowed him again.

"He did what?!"

"We'll tell you everything soon," Raven scowled at Sean before turning to Darwin. "All you need to know is that he's long gone and we're safe here."

"Where is here, anyway?" Darwin asked.

"Westchester," she answered, "New York. Charles'...family home..."

"You gotta check this place out," Sean said, "It's like living in a palace."

"...Three years..." Darwin breathed, "...Three whole years..."

"Well...we thought you were...I mean, the professor even had a...a...erm...never mind..." Alex shook his head. "It doesn't matter, you're here now," he said.

"Who's the kid?" Darwin asked after a minute. He looked curiously at the boy standing at his bedside. A boy he couldn't remember ever meeting.

"Scott," the child answered quickly.

"My kid brother," Alex said, "He wanted to meet you, I couldn't shake him."

"Looks like you," Darwin smirked.

"Don't make me hit you," Alex told him with a laugh.

"...So...this place is a palace, huh? How soon you think I can get outta this bed and take a look for myself?" Darwin asked with a hopeful smile.


	12. Late August, 1967

**Late August, 1967**

* * *

"Raven was right," Erik remarked, "You do make a lousy patient."

"And you have an appalling beside manner," Charles shot back, his sentence ending with a raspy cough and his head lolled back on his pillow.

"A poor beside manner that's reserved for an equally bad patient," the German shook his head and proceeded to close the thick curtains, shutting out the light.

"That's just what an ill, bed ridden man wants to hear," the telepath sighed.

"You should try and rest," Erik said, "Sarcasm and facetiousness are all well and good but they won't help you get well."

"Urgh...I honestly don't remember the last time I was this ill," Charles groaned.

"All the things we can do and yet we can't cure the common cold."

"Why do you sound so happy about that?"

"I warned you; you've been working too hard lately without any rest at all. At least this way you don't have a choice but to lie down and rest," Erik told him.

"I'm not dying, I could still get up and..." Charles began but he ended in coughs and struggled breaths again.

"You're not going anywhere," the German said, smugly, "And we both know it," he added as he moved silently to the door. "I'll bring you something to eat later. Süße Träume, Charles."

The telepath muttered something incoherent before Erik left the room, closing the door behind him. The fact that, superior as they were, they could still be felled by a common cold virus was, to Charles, proof that they were still human but to Erik it was proof that cruel irony was alive and well. He'd said, years ago, that he would protect his friend, but he couldn't defend against this microscopic enemy and whilst it was true that Charles had been overworking himself it didn't mean that Erik wanted to see him suffer like this. No one liked being sick.

He hadn't told Charles, but his friend's telepathic abilities had been making him feel sick too. Charles' control wasn't up to his usual standards, either from overworking or because he was ill, or both, but it meant that whenever he was approached, people could feel just how lousy he really felt. The telepath had tried valiantly to reign in his abilities, but his mind was too clogged up to do much of anything. That was why Erik had told the others that he would care for the sick man so that they wouldn't have to. They wanted to, of course, but when they felt as ill as they man they were trying to help, it made things rather difficult. At first he'd thought about wearing his helmet to block Charles telepathic thoughts but he knew how caged it made the telepath feel. He knew that Charles was taking some comfort from being able to hear his mind when he was near and Erik had felt much worse than a second hand cold.

It had been years since he'd cared for anyone who was ill, indeed the last time had been when he'd been left alone with a sick, ageing relative while his mother had gone to work for the day. That had been so long ago now. What he could remember vividly was that when he'd been ill, his mother had always made a steaming broth with the best of whatever vegetables and meats she could find and it had always helped. The kitchen he had access to now was stocked with an infinite number of ingredients but of course, as a child he'd never paid any attention to how his mother had made her broth. But, really, how hard could it be.

* * *

After living alone for so long, Erik was used to cooking simple meals and eating in silence but since he'd returned to the manor he'd recalled that not everyone lived like that. Meal times in the Xavier manor were group affairs, loud and generally fun, even the cooking was scarcely done alone but with the face he'd stormed into the kitchen with today, no one dared to follow him.

Once he'd set the chicken and vegetables on the stove to cook he left for the nearest sitting room to read, but it wasn't long before he heard muffled voices. Obviously that silence hadn't been meant to last. He returned to the kitchen and stood in the doorway watching as Alex, Sean and Darwin pottered round the room while Raven sat at the table.

"What if we put this in it?" Darwin asked, holding up a block of cheese.

"I don't think you're meant to put cheese in there," Alex scoffed.

"How would you know?"

"I'm telling you, you should just leave it alone, d'you know what Erik do to us if he finds out you've been messing around in here?" Raven said.

"You worry too much," Alex told her as he opened another cupboard.

"Yeah, I doubt your boyfriend would murder us with the professor upstairs," Sean laughed.

"How many times do I have to to you, he's not my boyfriend," Raven sighed.

"Yeah, right," Alex muttered and Erik, having heard enough, coughed lightly and all four head snapped towards him.

"...Hey...you..." Sean said nervously.

"We were just...just...getting some...lunch..." Darwin muttered.

"Smooth," Alex muttered.

"You better get out of here before I decide to add you to my broth," Erik said to them with a wicked grin and they wasted no time in running past him.

* * *

A while later, he was ascending the stairs again to Charles' room where he found his friend lightly dozing where he'd left him. He flicked on the lamp furthest away from the bed to give enough light for him to see without blinding Charles' eyes at the same time.

"Charles," he spoke quietly, "I brought you some food."

"...M'not hungry," the telepath muttered.

"Tough, you need to eat."

"Go 'way, Erik."

"You're acting childish."

"I'm ill, I'm allowed to," Charles said.

"I swear, if you don't sit up and eat this I'll force feed you...and don't think I won't."

"...Thought I was meant to be resting."

"Well, now you're meant to be eating."

"...Eating what?" Charles asked slowly.

"Broth," Erik answered, "And you should count yourself lucky that it stayed that way."

"What do you..." the telepath furrowed his brow as he caught the passing memories in Erik's mind. "...Threatening to put our friends into the pot...that was cruel, my friend," he chuckled.

"It worked, didn't it?" Erik's shrugged.

"...Your mother used to make you broth?" Charles questioned, already knowing the answer from the images he could still see in his friends' mind.

"Yes."

"My mother never usually noticed when I was sick," the telepath said, "The maids took care of me."

"Maids?"

"Mmm," he hummed, "And the butler...the cook and the..."

"I get it," Erik stopped him. "Maids and butlers," he said quietly shaking his head and Charles gave a quiet chuckle. He could hear Erik's thoughts even though he was trying his utmost not to do so.

"I know," the telepath muttered, "I'm a spoilt little rich boy. I've had everything given to me and it's not fair..."

"Charles..."

"But if everything was so perfect, why am I jealous of you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"...You're not in your right mind," Erik said.

"Your mother loved you, I felt it...You may not have had the privileges afforded to me but there are far more important things."

"... Not only do you make a bad patient, but you start to think you're a psychologist, too," Erik said, depositing the bowl onto the bedside table with a little more force than was necessary. In the recesses of his mind he could already feel his head beginning to pound and his sinuses were becoming inflamed but Erik ignored it as best as he could. He could deal with that, it was this introspection that he couldn't stand.

"...I'm...sorry, I shouldn't have...I can't help it. You were thinking about her and I..."

"It's fine," Erik said, trying to hold back a cough.

"You should go," Charles said, "...I'm fine."

"So am I," the German shot back.

"Not you're not," the telepath sighed and closed his eyes. He concentrated on keeping his ill thoughts to himself and it took him a minute to reign in his rogue telepathic thoughts. By that time, Erik felt much better and Charles felt much more drained, "Now you are," he murmured.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"Mmm," Charles grumbled.

"Here," Erik rolled his eyes and helped his friend sit up against the old, wooden headrest. "Eat this before you pass out," he said, taking up the bowl again and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I've been through quite a lot in my time, I can handle a few minutes of this illness without you trying to give yourself an aneurism," he added and Charles smiled.

"...Shouldn't have to," the telepath muttered.

"Yes, yes," Erik muttered, "Am I going to have to make little aeroplane sounds to make you eat or will you do it yourself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he held the spoon for his friend to take.

"V...vey funny," Charles coughed again and took the spoon and the bowl, resting it on his lap.

"It's as close as I could get it to how she used to make it," Erik admitted a minute later, "I never did ask how she made it."

"No child would've," Charles said.

"No," the German sighed and shook his head. "You know...you might not appreciate it now, but I expect this same treatment when I get sick," he smirked.

"...The bedside manner or the food?" Charles asked facetiously.

"Both."

"Hmm," Charles breathed unsteadily as he ate the broth, "...Thank you," he said after a minute.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Süße Träume - Sweet dreams


	13. Early November, 1963, Wednesday 6th

**Early November, 1963**

* * *

Raven, along with Alex, Scott, Sean and Hank were sat around on the living room floor with dozens of either empty or half empty mugs of hot chocolate lying around them in a circle around a half finished game of Monopoly when Erik walked in, clearly looking for something, or someone, and going by the look on his face that something, or someone wasn't in the room.

"Where's Charles?" he asked.

"I don't know," Raven answered, "We haven't seen him all day."

"Haven't you looked for him?"

"Of course," she said, "But he's always been good at hiding. If he doesn't want to be found, you won't find him."

"We were supposed to be going over some new ideas for Cerebro before breakfast," Hank shrugged. "But he wasn't in the lab when I went to meet him. I looked for him and I saw him out in the gardens."

"The gardens," Erik repeated, "There are miles of 'gardens', can't you be little more specific?"

"This was about an hour ago, he could be anywhere now," Hank replied, "Looked like be wanted to be alone."

"Right," Erik sighed and left the room.

He extended the reach of his senses, going from sensing the metal objects in the room to the whole house. It was difficult to tell what metal was what but he focused on the smaller pieces that were more than likely to be on people's clothes. Erik found Sean wearing his harness on the roof, he found Alex wearing a watch in the kitchen with his younger brother, Scott, and for course he knew that Raven and Hank were watching the television but he couldn't find Charles. Would the telepath even be wearing metal for him to trace? His wheelchair was made of plastic, after all.

Luckily he found that Charles was wearing a watch and he was able to trace it across the vast grounds to a clearing through the trees. It was enclosed on all sides and the dim morning light streamed through the bare branches.

"_Good morning, Erik,_" Charles said in his mind as he walked across to his friend.

"A little old for hide and seek, aren't we, Charles?" he asked and looked down at the object which held the telepath's attention so vividly. It was a headstone, carved from dark stone and polished to perfection. The two simple lines of writing read;

'Armando Muñoz - Darwin.

True courage does not fade in the face of adversity.'

"It seemed an appropriate quote as any," Charles remarked.

"Hmm," Erik hummed, unsure of what to say.

"He's sorely missed."

"...Don't you ever blame him...Azazel, I mean, he was there when Shaw killed Darwin and he's killed before...like me," Erik said.

"Not since you brought him here, he hasn't - I'd know."

"That's not what I meant..."

"No, I know what you meant, but you of all people should know that we can't always chose our pasts. Azazel has had a difficult life, like you, like many people here."

"I don't understand how you can be so...forgiving," Erik sighed, "And not just towards him..."

"You think it's easy for me?"

"You make it seem like it is."

"Well, it isn't," Charles replied quickly. "You've no idea what happened when you left. I've rarely felt so angry as I did then. It would have been easy for me to simply hate you and for a while I thought I did...But you don't deserve that."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. I don't hate you, Erik, I trust you."

Erik turned away, saying nothing for a moment before he glanced back down at the headstone with remorse. Darwin may have been a foolish young man in some ways, but he'd acted honourably and he hadn't deserved to die.

"So...when did you do this?" Erik asked.

"A while ago," Charles answered grimly.

"I didn't think there was a body."

"There wasn't...but that shouldn't mean we can't remember him."

"We hardly knew him," Erik stated, sadly but truthfully.

"You might not have but I found him using my abilities, I touched his mind...I knew him. The others had more time to get to know him than we did and then they watched him die," the telepath said. "And besides, a grave is more than just a burial site, it's a place to be remembered. Everyone deserves that."

"Not everyone gets what they deserve," the German remarked.

"No," Charles said sadly, "No, in many ways they don't...He deserved more than what he got."

"Yes, he did."

"I don't want this to happen to anyone else here...I don't want war..."

"War is coming, Charles, whether you want it or not," Erik said sternly. "And I will fight to defend our kind, I won't hesitate if...when...war comes. But admit it, if you had your way we'd be hiding away in the manor, wishing for them to forget all about us."

"Then...why don't we compromise?" Charles sighed after a few minutes.

"How? I've already agreed not to kill again, what more can I possibly do?"

"You won't tell me why exactly you came back and I respect that, but your approach is too violent, it only encourages war and death..."

"Your point?" Erik snapped.

"My point is that you think my approach is too passive and I think yours is too violent; we need a middle ground if we're to work together successfully...which means I have to compromise too. I want what's best for mutants and I know...I know that things will be difficult, but...you're right...hiding away from the world, from who and what we are won't help anyone," Charles said. "So...whatever happens, we compromise," he finished.

"...As allies?"

"As friends," the telepath corrected him with a smile.


	14. Late September, 1963, Thursday 26th

**Late September, 1963**

* * *

When Charles awoke that morning he was reminded of one very sobering fact; that this was no ordinary Thursday morning. It was only a matter of hours since Erik had returned to the manor, bringing Azazel and Raven with him. Even as he'd slept, Charles had felt the unease and nervousness that his decision had wrought in Hank and the others, and added to his own, already mixed emotions, it meant that he'd had a very fitful night. And he wasn't the only one.

Erik, Raven and Azazel were sat uneasily in a darkened sitting room sipping the whiskey that Erik and Charles had often drank over a chess match. It brought back, not happy, but rather contented memories for him.

"...I know this was the right thing to do," Raven said, "But we can't afford to lose focus..."

"We won't, I won't, but this is important to me," Erik said.

"It's important to me as well, Charles is my brother!"

"He's a brother to me as well and you left him just like I did," the German pointed out.

"He said it was..."

"He'd just been shot, do you really think he was in his right mind?"

"You didn't try and stop me then," Raven replied quickly.

"I didn't want to stay and watch him..."

"What? Suffer? Die?" she questioned, "...Neither did I...maybe we should've stayed. Does it ever keep you awake at night? It does me. I see it all the time, over and over and over again. He was the first person I'd met who was...different, he is...was...my family and I just..."

"I know, I just can't believe that he's...that I...I never wanted...I never meant to hurt him, you now that...don't you?"

"I do, but everyone else doesn't," Raven sighed, "Hank wouldn't even look at me...unless you count that first glare he gave me."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he attacks me again, actually," Erik scoffed, "They grow up so fast," he chuckled.

"They care about Charles," she said.

"So do we, I kept away all those months because I didn't want to have to fight him."

"And yet we're here now."

"Yes, we are, and what exactly are you now - my right hand or Charles' sister?" Erik asked quickly.

"What am I? What are you? About a year ago you were 'Magneto' out to destroy humanity using whatever means necessary without batting an eyelid. Now you're here to...what exactly?"

"I'm here to protect Charles," Erik said.

"What makes you think he needs protecting? Yes, he's in a wheelchair but he can control minds, he could freeze an entire army of people before they even had the chance to raise a hand at him!"

"Not if a person was wearing..."

"Yes, your precious metal helmet," she nodded. "If it wasn't for that stupid thing he wouldn't have been shot in the first place!"

"...I know," he sighed, "I know."

"I do not understand why we are here," Azazel said, speaking up for the first time. "This professor does not have what it takes to do what is best for us..."

"No one made you stay," Erik told him.

"I stay of my own accord, I stay because you stay," the red skinned mutant replied. "But what is so special about him? Yes, he is a telepath, I heard Shaw say that he is a very powerful telepath, stronger even than Emma Frost, but he will not join our cause. He will not work with the Brotherhood."

"I don't want Charles to work with the Brotherhood, besides, the Brotherhood chose not to follow me here," Erik shrugged. "Emma has it now. I am here to work with Charles. I don't need them."

"If we stay, our paths will cross again," Azazel said.

"I know."

"And if we do, we will be forced to fight."

"Yes," Erik nodded, melancholy.

"Fight against our own Brotherhood," Azazel reiterated, fearful at the prospect.

"I heard you," the German snapped.

"Then why do this?" the red skinned mutant asked.

"I have my reasons, that'll have to be enough," Erik said slowly and Azazel sighed.

"For now...one day it may not be," he replied.

"By then you'll probably understand why I'm doing this."

"I hope so," Azazel said genuinely.

"So do I," Erik nodded, holding up his glass for Azazel to clang it with his own in agreement.

"So...what do we do?" Raven asked.

"Do?" Azazel furrowed his brow.

"If we cause trouble, things will be difficult..."

"Then we stay out of trouble," Erik said, "And hope things work out."

"Hope?" Raven repeated, "You never say 'hope'," she said.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Erik breathed.

* * *

Not long after that conversation, Raven and Azazel left Erik alone and he kept the curtains drawn against the increasing daylight as he leaned against the wall between two large windows. He held his shining helmet between his hands and the bottle of whiskey he'd been drinking with Raven and Azazel was almost empty, most of it he'd polished off himself.

"You kept it, then," Charles stated as he entered the room and glanced at the helmet.

"You know I did," Erik began, "In case we need to fight against a telepath, Emma, for example. I didn't keep it to use against you, I won't..."

"You did once."

"Because I knew you'd have made me stop if I hadn't," the German sighed, once more remembering how he'd controlled a thousand missiles.

"You stopped in the end," Charles pointed out.

"Because you'd been shot!" Erik ground out, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the helmet tightened.

"I'm used to being inside people's heads," Charles said slowly. "I'm used to having the opportunity to glance inside anyone's mind if I wanted to. I grew up hearing everyone's voices inside my head but...that..." he gestured to the helmet, "...Takes everything that I am away from me."

"Charles, I..."

"If you want to keep it, that's up to you but I expect you to make sure that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"It won't," Erik said, "But Emma already knows about it. If she wanted to she could..."

"I wasn't just talking about her. I mean the CIA, anyone who..."

"So you admit that they're not on the same side as us?" Erik asked quickly.

"Erik..."

"Answer me, Charles, I'm here to help you whatever you chose to do, but the CIA won't help our cause."

"I know," the telepath admitted, "But they're afraid of us, they don't understand us. One day I hope they will...but that won't be for some time."

"They'll never understand us, people like that are..."

"What, Erik? Evil? Mankind is not evil, just... uninformed."

"Yes, and once they became informed, they tried to destroy us all."

"You'd just lifted a submarine out of the water, Erik, of course they were afraid."

"And they'll never stop being afraid of things they can't understand," the German insisted.

"Then we have to give the the opportunity to understand us and hope that the good in them outweighs the fear...If you recall, I saw good in you when even you didn't."

"And how did that work out for you?" Erik said coldly.

"Some things are worth sacrificing if they make way for something far greater."

"Ever the optimist," Erik rolled his eyes.

"One of us has to be," Charles smiled.

"I suppose so."

"In the meantime, I suggest we keep that somewhere more secure."

"Like where?"

"I have an underground vault," Charles stated.

"I can break into a vault easily," Erik frowned.

"Exactly. You'd be able to retrieve it whenever you want and it would be safer from everyone else."

"...Alright," Erik shrugged, "Underground vault it is, then...So what exactly do the wealthy keep in underground vaults when everything of value looks like it's already on display?"

"Ah, you'd be surprised," Charles said enigmatically.

"After everything I've seen, I doubt anything could surprise me anymore," Erik remarked.

"You know, not everything worth hiding has monetary value," Charles replied.

"Says the man who owns a manor house," Erik scoffed.

"Says the man who owns a manor house, yes," the telepath repeated with a smile. "But I think that helmet is proof enough; I could tell you what every object in this building is worth and yet that, is worth so much more. Tell me," he said tilting his head, "Did you wear it every day because you didn't want to me to find out what you were doing or because you couldn't stand the thought of hearing my voice...even for a moment?"

"...I still don't know," Erik admitted. "I really don't."

"I tried to find you, I tried to talk to you," Charles said, "I talked to you even though I knew you couldn't hear me."

"You didn't try and talk to Raven or the others?"

"I spoke to Raven once," the telepath told him slowly. "Just once...and she asked me not to do so again."

"She never said..."

"No, she wouldn't. She never liked it when I invited myself into her head," Charles sighed.

"What did you tell her?" Erik asked, curiously.

"That I wasn't angry with her, that I didn't blame her and that I was alright."

"But you weren't 'alright'!"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "That's the most important thing, isn't it? That's what's driven you for so many years. Nothing else matters, not happiness or friendship as long as you are alive."

"Stay out of my head," Erik muttered.

"I'm not in your head," Charles said quickly. "I know you...whether you want to acknowledge that or not."

"And I know you."

"And yet all I keep hearing from you is 'stay out of my head'...do you know how...how...insulting that is for someone like me?"

"I...what?" Erik blinked, suddenly very confused.

"I never asked you to stop tracking people by the metal they're wearing. I never asked you not to rattle the silverware when you're angry..."

"Charles, you're sitting in a plastic wheelchair," the German interrupted, "How is that any different?"

"Hank made this because of what you did, because of what you became," Charles said.

"And what did I become?" Erik snapped, jumping up from the floor.

"Shaw," Charles answered, "You became Shaw. You became the man you despised."

"No!"

"Yes, you did, and if you still can't see that..."

"How dare you?!" Erik yelled, "He murdered my mother! He murdered thousands..."

"And you murdered them."

"That was what they deserved! That was justice for my people!"

"And do they rest any easier now? Would they be content with what you did?"

"Of course."

"You have doubts about that, you always have," Charles shook his head.

"Get out of my..."

"...Out of your head, yes, I know," the telepath turned his eyes away from Erik. "It's who I am, Erik, I live inside people's thoughts. I can't help it and even if I'm not reading your mind your thoughts are printed clear as day on your face...on anyone's face."

"What are you..."

"I won't read your mind, Erik, as long as you are here, as long as you wish it, your thoughts will be your own," Charles sighed and began to leave the room.

"But I..."

"You have my word," the telepath said before he was gone from the room, leaving Erik alone once again.


	15. Mid November, 1963

**Mid November, 1963.**

* * *

Erik awoke with a cry of anger and shock as his eyes snapped open in the darkness. He breathed heavily as beads of sweat slid down his face while he sat up on the lumpy mattress he'd designated himself for his 'room that wasn't really intended for use as a bedroom'. Most people would think it strange that he was living in a grand manor house and yet choosing to sleep in a small, draughty room with an old lumpy mattress and only a single window, but after everything he'd lived through, Erik didn't care. He'd lived in far worse conditions and he didn't believe himself deserving of the manors larger bedroom suites. More importantly, if he stayed in the top floors of the house then he'd be less likely to run into Charles' 'students' and far less likely cause any arguments.

He rubbed his eyes and stood to walked cross to the small window which lacked a curtain. It was a cloudy night and the rain was hammering hard against the glass just like it had been in his dream. He had plenty of material for nightmares but he hadn't had ones that shocked him awake in many years. This was the seventh one in almost a week and though he didn't want to admit it, it was having an affect on him; he was ill tempered, not to mention tired. He was fairly certain he knew why the memories were resurfacing as nightmares.

It was all because he'd decided to read the newspaper one morning. In it, he'd read an article about how a Nazi war criminal had been apprehended in rural Italy and had been taken to England to face trial. Erik hadn't thought much of it at the time since his efforts had been in tracking down the leaders of the death camps and the scientists who'd used people as lab rats, but the man who'd been found was a general whose efforts had been focused on invasion. He hadn't thought that it would have affected him so much.

He'd fallen asleep early that night, wearing his clothes and his dreams had been atrocious all night. With a sigh he left the room and began walking down the long, quiet hallways and descending the stairs, making his way towards the kitchen. After a few minutes he was approaching the door only to find that it was already open and that Charles was sitting at the table in his wheelchair.

"Charles?" he furrowed his brow.

"Erik," the telepath said, not seeming the least bit surprised. He was leaning over the table with his head resting on his arms and a half empty glass of water beside him.

"Something wrong?" Erik asked, slowly moving closer. Charles usually took great pains to make sure that his posture was straight and as perfect as his upper class accent, so he found it very strange that the telepath, knowing that someone was there, was slouching like this.

Charles winced, unseen by Erik of course, as the loud thoughts from his mind literally bombarded his own and he was forced to shield his mind against the unintentional attack. Erik couldn't help that his thoughts were loud and Charles knew he had no right to complain but the constant effort of keeping his mind shielded from the German was like trying to hold back the tide.

"I gave you my word that I'd stay out of your head and I have done," Charles, said as though that explained everything, but Erik was still confused.

"Yes...and?" Erik questioned.

"It's not easy to keep that up when your mind screams everything that you think...whether you're awake or asleep," the telepath said further.

"I don't see how that makes a difference," Erik replied, sitting down across from Charles.

"No, you wouldn't," Charles said quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not a telepath, I never expected you to understand."

"You understand everyone else's abilities better than they do but we're not allowed to understand yours?"

"In a way, I can understand how people's abilities work because I'm telepathic..."

"Maybe people don't want you inside their heads," Erik suggested.

"It's not something that I can turn on and off like you can; telepathy doesn't work like that."

"Emma's does," the German frowned.

"You've pointed out before that my abilities are somewhat stronger than hers and even when she was a child she would've had the same problems controlling her abilities."

"I don't..."

"Your abilities work differently than mine, once you learned how to control them, generally, you see something metal, you want to move it and you can. I can't always control what I can hear from people's minds no matter how much control I use. I've hardly slept for almost two months because I'm trying to keep your thoughts out of mine and I'm going out of my mind...pun intended..." he added.

"And...you're awake at one in the morning because..."

"You had a nightmare, you've been having them all week."

"...Your point?"

"I felt your distress, I didn't actually see your dream if that's what you're worried about, I did everything I could to make sure that I didn't. I gave you my word, after all."

"Am I supposed to feel guilty about this? I can't help but have..."

"I know and I understand," Charles said quickly. "You've been through things that no one should ever have to experience and there are true horrors in your past. It's natural that everything you've seen would haunt you."

"Other people here must have bad dreams, I can't be the only one..."

"No, you're not," the telepath nodded once. "You're right, they do, but not nearly as bad as yours. It's easy for me to calm their minds; I've spoken to them about this and they've voiced no objections."

"Why is it then, that my dreams have been keeping you awake?"

"I think it's because your mind is...different..."

"Different?" Erik repeated incredulously.

"Mmm," Charles hummed, "I don't know how to explain it to you."

"Try," the German pressed and Charles sighed.

"Everyone's mind is different and some are easier to block out than others..." he shrugged and was silent for a moment. "I've found that, generally, people who get along, either close family members or the closest of friends have minds that are...not necessarily similar, but compatible for want of a better word...You told me once that we were brothers," he said, finally looking Erik in the eyes.

"So...it's difficult for you not to hear my thoughts because our minds are...compatible?"

"Well...that and the fact that it's incredibly easy for me read people's minds, but yours...it's what I believe...yes."

"Even now?"

"Even now," Charles repeated. "We're still the same people and if I'm honest, I still trust you. A person's mind doesn't change because they spend time apart or have disagreements...and I think...I think because I couldn't hear your thoughts when you wore that helmet for almost a year, it makes it more difficult now that you're here. Basically, I'd adapted to not hearing a single thought from you and now I'm being bombarded and having to shield myself from them without having had time to readapt...It's like trying to hold up this entire manor if it were collapsing in on me with only a small twig to protect myself," he muttered. "...I'll get used to it, I expect."

Erik stood and slowly walked over to the window, he could hear the rain lashing down against the glass panes from outside. The sound usually, he found, was a calming one on his generally turbulent thoughts, but now it did very little to help him. As confusing as everything was recently the last thing he'd wanted to do was cause any more pain for Charles and to know that he'd been doing so for over a month now due to his 'request', didn't make him feel good at all. All he'd done, it seemed, was make life more difficult for the telepath.

"...Would it...make things easier for you if I wore the helmet?" Erik asked after a while.

Charles only stared at his back as the German continued to stare out of the window. This question made Charles' breathing increase and he couldn't help but chuckle sardonically. "What?" Erik furrowed his brow.

"No, Erik," the telepath began, "If I'm honest, that would make it unbearable."

"And this isn't?"

"I've dealt with things like this for almost my entire life," Charles shrugged, "And I don't like...not being able to use my abilities, that...things is..."

"You're using your abilities to keep out of my head when I could easily use it so that you wouldn't have to..."

"You don't understand!" Charles yelled and Erik spun around, surprised at the telepath's uncharacteristic loss of composure.

"Then help me to understand," he said as gently and patiently as he could.

"My telepathy functions constantly but that...helmet...it's like a cage, it...threatens everything I am. If you hadn't been wearing it that day on the beach I wouldn't have had to feel..."

"...Me killing Shaw," Erik nodded.

"You have your nightmares, I have mine."

"...I still would have killed him," Erik told him, "You could have stopped me then but I'd have found another way."

"I know."

"It had to be done, some part of you has to acknowledge that, if not condone it. After everything he'd done he didn't deserve to live."

"Yes, but don't you see, Erik? Once you start dealing out death as punishment you're as bad as them. I'm not naïve, I know the Nazis did unspeakable things. I know they were disgraceful excuses for human beings and I know that you more than most, have every right to hate them. But when you think like they do, when you kill with the same disregard for live as they did, how are you any different from them?"

"Charles, I..." Erik gritted his teeth.

"We seem to have gotten of topic," Charles interrupted him before the same argument could break out again.

"...Of course," Erik pursed his lip and let out a quiet scoff. "Alright...so...you don't want me to use the helmet despite the fact that it would make your life easier. You've been as short tempered as me recently and that's saying something...and you've probably gotten as little sleep as I have...if not less. You really are a masochist, aren't you?"

"I certainly hope not," Charles deadpanned as Erik meandered about the kitchen.

"...Alright...alright, just tell me...has this been going on since I...arrived?" the German asked.

"Honestly?" Charles asked unnecessarily and Erik glared at him, "Yes," he said.

"And you said nothing?"

"Of course I didn't, I promised you that I'd stay out of your head, remember? And aside from the odd, very strong emotion flitting through about a half dozen times, I've been successful."

"Successful?" Erik scoffed, "You look terrible. You haven't slept...Surely you don't intend to carry on like this? If I walked into that damn vault of yours and used that helmet for your own good, you couldn't stop me."

"I could," Charles said, "I could stop you before you reached the vault. But I won't. Besides, I don't want you to use it, I've told you."

"And I don't want to see you suffer because..." Erik began angrily but he took in a deep breath and stopped himself. "Look...it doesn't help your...your 'students' or your cause if you can't even see straight."

"It gets easier...it'll just time some time..."

"You can't afford any distractions," Erik said, "Distractions lead to mistakes, Charles."

"There's no other alternative," Charles shook his head. "I'm not having you wear that helmet around me nor am I willing to send you away."

Erik closed his eyes in realisation and let out a shaky breath, "There is...one other alternative," he spoke quietly. "You stop...shutting out my thoughts," he elaborated and continued before Charles could speak. "But I want...I want you to swear to me that...that night...those vague images you saw in Raven and the others' minds...you won't look at that..."

"Erik, I'm doing this because..."

"It doesn't matter," the German said, "It doesn't matter, if you end up running yourself into the ground because of me, I may as well leave; I didn't come here intending to harm you."

"This isn't your fault," Charles told him quickly.

"Maybe not, but I can't ignore it, I won't, not again, not after...anyway...I did say we were brothers and I meant it. I want things to be like they were before...I know they never will be, I know I've no right to ask them to be. I should have returned sooner, hell, I should never have left...but if I can help you now I will."

"You were quite adamant that your thoughts remained your own..."

"I only meant...I only said that because there are some things I'd rather keep to myself. I'm not used to someone knowing everything about me," Erik said quickly, "I never thought anyone could."

"I can't help that I know what I do," Charles told him, sadly.

"That's not what I'm saying," Erik shook his head, "It would make things easier for you if you just stopped this."

"...You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Erik said with a small smile, remembering the last time they'd said those same words. "At least this way I can prove to you that I want to help you."

"You don't need to prove anything to me," Charles said.

"You're far too forgiving," Erik sighed.

"At times, I think I've been rather terse with you, actually," the telepath admitted.

"Only you would think that, everyone else thinks you've not been 'terse' enough."

"It wasn't my intention," Charles sighed, "And I'm sorry for it. I'm not tying to make excuses but you have to understand that in doing all I have, to keep out of your mind I..."

"It doesn't matter," Erik said before he could continue. "You are my friend, Charles, the only real friend I've ever had and if I'd known that this would happen I never would've said anything. I've know I've made mistakes but I want to put them right...This one, at least, I can make right tonight...compromise...as friends, remember?"

"Using my own words against me," Charles smiled, "That's very clever."

"But is it working?" Erik asked.

"If I said 'yes' would you change your mind?" the telepath asked in good humour and Erik sighed, relieved.

"My mind is already made up," he said, "...See for yourself," Erik added prompting a smile from his friend.

"Last chance..."

"Just look, Charles," Erik rolled his eyes.

"Alright," the telepath muttered.

In a way, Charles was almost sorry to have to dismantle the barriers he'd built up around his mind lately, they were some of the strongest he'd ever made but things word be much easier without having to worry about them as much. As a young child he'd developed the idea that to keep his mind safe and separate from all of the other minds he encountered, he needed a defence so that he wouldn't lose himself. Until recently, he'd never met another telepath so he'd had no way of knowing if they managed their abilities differently but he'd learned, during his brief foray into Emma Frost's mind that she had found the same solution. His usual barriers were strong enough and he'd never thought to meet anyone for whom he'd require even stronger shields.

It took him a few minutes to fully free his mind from his own defences but once he had it was as though a light had been switched on in the darkness, like a bird being freed from its cage or going out to breathe in the cool, fresh air of a new morning after a long and difficult night.

Erik's mind was, of course, still filled with turmoil from his earlier nightmares, but there was also apprehension, excitement, stunned disbelief at what he himself had offered, but mostly Charles felt that his friend was truly concerned for him. The one thing he could do for Erik was to make sure that, no matter how curious, that he didn't see the one memory that his friend wanted to keep hidden so badly.

"_Happy_?" Charles asked Erik in his mind.

"Yes, I suggested this only to make myself happy after all," Erik scoffed.

"You know, I wouldn't be surprised if I lose my mind sometime soon," Charles mused. "'Stay out of my head,' 'no, actually it's fine, I don't mind, go ahead and read my mind', I don't know what to do for the best," he smiled.

"Well, first thing's first, you need to get some sleep," Erik said.

"That can wait," Charles shrugged.

"Why?" the German frowned. "I'm used to not sleeping, but you look as though you need a good solid week of sleep just to..."

"You think I've never had a sleepless night?" Charles scoffed, "I've had far more sleepless nights than you know. Before I learned to control my abilities I could hardly think for all the voices inside my head let alone sleep."

"And yet you're happier with my voice in your head."

"Yes, actually, I am. Problem?" Charles raised an eyebrow.

"No, no, of course not," Erik breathed incredulously as the telepath finished his glass of water. "I'd much rather drink something stronger than water," he remarked, looking around.

"Whiskey or vodka?" Charles asked.

"You mean you don't know?"

"It's only polite to ask," the telepath shrugged. "The whiskey is in my living room," he said as he moved his wheelchair towards the door, "Along with the chess set," he added.

"...We never did finish that last game, did we?" Erik asked after a moment, remembering that they hadn't actually played chess since the night before they'd left for Cuba.

"No, we didn't," Charles shook his head, "...But if you recall, I was winning."

"No, I don't recall," Erik said, looking down at his friend.

"Well, I do."

"I don't think I can compromise on this," Erik replied in mock seriousness.

"Nor can I," Charles said, "On principle alone."

"I'm fairly sure you're making this up. There's no way you were winning."

"Why? Because you're the superior chess player?"

"Yes."

"We'll just see about that," the telepath grinned as the two of them left the room together.

* * *

A.N. I'd just like to say a big, big thank you to everyone who's reviewed the story so far. I got such an influx of reviews, it really made my day :)


	16. Early January, 1964

**Early January, 1964.**

* * *

Charles Xavier was a man whose patience was far from infinite, regardless of what his friends thought.

Charles understood that everyone needed their outlets, their time alone, their time to forget about the world just for a little while, which was why, when he sensed Erik leaving the house in one of his cars the night before, he'd more or less, left his friend to do as he pleased. He'd kept a distant eye on Erik, using his abilities just to make sure that his friend was in no danger and for almost two hours, the only danger that Erik was risking was liver failure. His drinking that night had put all of Charles' to shame. In a single night. Still, he was fully aware that Erik could look after himself and that he didn't need Charles to watch out for him, but when he'd felt that first punch land squarely on his friends' face, he decided that he couldn't sit back and let Erik, a very drunk Erik, get himself beaten to a bloody pulp.

So, he sent Alex and Sean, with Azazel to teleport them there, to find Erik, with the aid of his telepathic abilities of course, and bring both his friend and his car back to the manor. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

Charles couldn't help that his mind was so connected to Erik's and the fact that Erik had more or less given his telepathy free reign inside his head again after almost two months of blocking every little thought out, didn't help when Charles was trying to give his friend some privacy. But it was because of that, that he'd been able to save Erik from a group of rather unsavoury men with whom he'd started a fight.

The telepath had long since admitted that, even despite all that had gone between them, that he cared still about his friend. He couldn't help it. But Erik didn't half try his patience sometimes. When Alex and Sean had been looking for Erik Charles had been worried beyond belief, even though he knew, thanks to his abilities, that Erik was alive if not a little worse for the wear. He didn't want to see his friend injured and after a moment of hesitation, he decided to delve even deeper into Erik's mind to see just what had promoted him to act this way. What he found didn't impress him. Not one bit.

And now, hours later, Charles sat at Erik's bedside with the room darkened and the telepath's nerves in tatters. Erik had refused any help and it had made Alex and Sean nothing if not irate. It had been even more difficult for them to treat his injuries, so much so that Charles had decided to send his friend to sleep using his telepathy. But he felt that he'd waited long enough so he finally released his hold on Erik's mind and it took several minutes for the German to wake on his own.

"_Good morning, Erik_," Charles said in his mind.

"...Hmm..." Erik ground out as he released a deep sigh.

"I suppose you feel rather pleased with yourself, don't you?" he asked aloud, sarcastically. "You have a black eye and a rather impressive bruise on your right shoulder to match. You also have a sprained wrist and ankle. In fact, you're lucky you didn't break your left ankle," the telepath listed and Erik scoffed. "We both know that you've had worse," Charles continued, making no indication that he'd heard the scoff. "But this may as well have been self inflicted," he added.

"...I was in a fight..."

"Yes, and had you been sober you wouldn't have had any problems at all. Had you been sober you wouldn't have picked a fight in the first place."

"...I was fine."

"No, you weren't; if I hadn't sent Alex and Sean when I had, you might not be here to argue with me."

"...Shouldn't have bothered."

"You're a melodramatic drunk, aren't you?" Charles rolled his eyes, "And you should probably know that you cursed far too much...in German, of course, when anyone tried to help you, not to mention the violence. So I...had to lend a hand," he frowned.

"What?"

"I sent you to sleep, possibly the calmest sleep you've ever had...you're welcome, by the way."

"...Why don't I feel...hungover...or bruised?" Erik asked, sitting up slowly and blinking.

"Oh, you will, but not before I had a chance to talk to you. I'm keeping the effects of your night at bay for a while."

"You can do that?"

"Clearly, but I wouldn't advise trying to stand up. I can hold back the effects of a hangover, the pain of your bruises and your sprains for a while, but I can't alter the fact that they are there. You'll just make them worse if you aggravate them."

"You're right...I have had worse," Erik said, stubbornly.

"You wait until I'm out of your head and then tell me that," Charles replied and his friend gave a quiet snort.

"I erm...I assume you know why I...why I..."

"Yes, I do," the telepath nodded.

"Uh-huh," Erik mumbled, "And you still came after me?"

"Of course I did."

"But you don't agree with with I did," Erik stated.

"No, not then or now. But I understand."

"You're one of few who actually can understand."

"Exactly, which is why I want you to listen to me," Charles began. "You had every reason to do what you did then, but I won't watch you destroy yourself now."

"Life imprisonment," Erik scoffed. "After everything they did...I should have..."

"What? Got on a plane to Germany and killed them yourself?"

"...Yes."

Charles sighed and turned away from his friend in sorrow. While it was true that there was good in Erik, it was also true that that goodness was often shadowed by the darkness and by the anger that had been bred in the concentration camps during the war.

It had been ten years since Erik had tracked down a group of Nazi war criminals and butchered them in one of the most brutal ways he'd ever used in all of his revenge killings. And, by a strange coincidence, recently another major Nazi war criminal had been extradited to West Germany and had sat trial. Unfortunately, in Erik's opinion, West Germany had abolished capital punishment in 1949, so the worst punishment they could give was life imprisonment. To Erik, this was unacceptable. It brought back all the horrors he'd seen as a child and so, he'd left the manor, gotten drunk and picked a fight he had little hope of winning.

"...I can still see their faces," Erik muttered.

"I know. But this isn't helping matters."

"Nothing helps," the German sighed, "...I just don't want to think about it for a while."

"And trying to get yourself beaten half to death was working brilliantly for you, was it?" Charles asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yes.

"...Erik," the telepath sighed deeply in frustration, "You're not going to make a habit of this, are you?"

"I don't know, Charles, let me just consult my diary," Erik rolled his eyes, "I didn't plan it, I was angry and I..." he shrugged. "I don't care what these 'famous' physiologists say; fighting a stupid, meaningless fight always helped more than sitting around talking about what I saw..."

"You don't have to, remember? I saw saw it all through your eyes. You don't have to talk about it. I don't want to have to keep track of you every time you 'don't want to think about things' because I'm afraid you'll do something reckless. You could have killed everyone in that bar if you'd lost control of your abilities or worse, you could have gotten yourself killed. Next time you want to fight, go and train with Hank or Azazel or anyone else, I hear that Sean is anxious to learn how to fight hand to hand, you could teach him."

"I don't think he'd like that idea somehow," Erik remarked, "He isn't going to trust me anytime soon."

"You're the one who pushed him off a satellite," Charles gave a faint smile.

"That wasn't what I meant."

"I know, but this isn't exactly going to earn you points in his favour, now is it?"

"I wasn't trying to."

"I know that too," Charles said and Erik make a point not to look at him.

Charles raised an eyebrow and began to release his hold on Erik's mind so that he pain he was pushing back was flooded into his friends' thoughts and it took the German entirely by surprise. He felt the instant ache of his bruises and the sprains, his throbbing ankle and fragile wrist as well as his pounding head and dizzying senses.

"Argh," Erik breathed, raising his hand to clutch as at his suddenly aching head. But no sooner had the pain come, it vanished and he was left dazed as his breathing leaved again. "What was that?" he asked, shaking his head lightly.

"That was what you did to yourself last night. Now if you've got nothing else to say I'll give it back to you, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your long nights' work, after all."

"Fantastic," Erik muttered and flopped back down onto the soft pillows.

"My thoughts precisely," Charles said, moving from the bedside to the door.

"I suppose I should thank you...for...looking out for me," Erik sighed, "I'm still not used to someone...doing that."

"Then I suggest you get used to it as quickly as possible otherwise things will be very difficult...and I'll probably end up going prematurely grey," the telepath remarked.

"However would you live?" Erik scoffed ad Charles smiled. "I didn't mean to worry you," he shrugged, "I'm not used to having to consider other people that would care if I...But I can't help what I am."

"That's not all you are," Charles said with a long suffering demeanour.

"Say that enough times and I might start to believe it."

"Deal...But I'm still giving you your hangover back."

"...I thought you would," Erik said.

"Alex tells me that he knows a guaranteed cure and he's prepared to bring it up for you as soon as I leave."

"He just wants to see me suffer."

"Maybe," Charles grinned.

"Are you sure he won't attempt to poison me?" Erik asked with a grimace.

"You think I'd let him?"

"Hmm," the German hummed. "Alright, alright, go ahead. I'm sure this won't be the worst hangover I've ever had," he said, setting down.

Charles only raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he gradually relinquished his hold on the pain he was blocking from Erik and it didn't take long for him to close his eyes as his skin colour paled. "...Ich korrigiere mich ...oh Gott ...töte mich jetzt ..." he muttered as the full force of both hangover and injuries hit him full force.

"I would apologise, but you did bring this on yourself, my friend," Charles shook his head, "And I'd rather not block the pain forever, who knows what the side effects would be if I did."

"...Enjoying this, aren't you?" Erik asked hazily after he'd gotten some of his pain under control.

"Not in the least," Charles replied, "I'll send Alex up to you," he said, leaving the room.

* * *

Ich korrigiere mich ...oh Gott ...töte mich jetzt - I stand corrected...oh god...kill me now


	17. Mid January, 1967

**Mid January, 1967.**

* * *

Everything started with a man - a mutant, with an extraordinary ability. His name was Giorgio Bucani. He'd fled Italy during the war and eventually settled down in Canada in an isolated cabin in the middle of Quebec. He preferred the solitude and he spent most of his time alone...until two young men knocked on his door one Thursday morning, that was.

* * *

Erik and Charles had decided, rather than let Azazel simply teleport them, that they'd make their own way and drive through into Canada, to one of the many forest covered regions in Quebec, using the opportunity to take a small break. They'd driven as far as they could on the poor roads though the forests but after a while the tracks vanished and they were forced to leave the car and walk. Charles, using his cane wasn't doing too badly but Erik had had to help him on more than one occasion when they reached particularly difficult areas.

Before long and after much conversation, they reached the cabin and Charles knocked on the door. The second he did so they heard sounds of several dogs barking loudly and the door itself was answered slowly, by a was a middle aged man with unkept black hair and a short beard, dressed in a plain white shirt and dark trousers with three, shaggy black and brown dogs at his ankles.

"What do you want?" Giorgio asked after he opened the door.

Charles smiled at him "Good morning, Mr. Bucani," he said, "My name is Charles Xavier and this is my friend Erik Lehnsherr, might we have a word with you?"

"No," Giorgio scowled and slammed the door shut in their faces.

Erik blinked for a moment before he turned to Charles, "Did he really just do that?" he said, incredulously.

"It seems so."

"Well, we didn't come all this way just to be stopped by a few millimetres of wooden door," the German rolled his eyes.

"Erik, please, can't we do this the polite way?"

"Again?"

"Don't be facetious," Charles held back a smile as he knocked on the door again. "Please open the door, Mr. Bucani, I assure you we mean you no harm," he said but he got no answer.

"He's not going to talk to us," Erik said, confidently.

"He will," the telepath replied and raised his fingers to his temple. "_Giorgio, please, open the door_," he said to the mans' mind, "_Let us talk to you, I ask only a few minutes of your time_."

A minute later the door clicked open and a suspicious looking Giorgio stood there once more.

"What are you?" he asked, "How did you do that?"

"You know how," Charles said.

"...You're...you are like me?"

"Yes, we are," the telepath answered, "And it's what we'd like to talk to you about."

"...Five minutes," Giorgio grumbled and turned away, leaving the door open and walking back into his house for them to follow him inside.

Erik couldn't help but notice the instant that he entered the building, that there was very little metal inside. The structure itself was made predominantly of wood as was the furniture and there didn't seem to be any smaller pieces that usually accounted for jewellery, trinkets or even money. The man wasn't even wearing a watch. All in all, it made Erik very uncomfortable.

"Thank you for..."

"Get the point," the Italian barked out before Charles had the chance to finish his sentence.

"As you wish," Charles shrugged. "The point is that, as much as I would like to deny it, the situation is becoming strained between between mutants - us, and non mutants. Circumstances being what they are, we are here to..."

"What makes you think I would be interested in this?" Giorgio hissed, once again interrupting the telepath.

"I though it best to give you the information and an opportunity face to face," Charles said, choosing not to comment on the mans' consistent rudeness..

"What opportunity?"

"I have a home in New York and I've been using it to train people like us for some time now..."

"I don't need any 'training'."

"Perhaps not, but we won't be the only mutants who find you. There is a woman she, like me is a telepath, she will probably find you and she is far less diplomatic than me. Her aim is to start a war between us and non mutants and she'll stop at nothing..."

"I don't care about this 'war'. I am here for solitude," Giorgio replied.

"There are hundreds of mutants out there, you don't need to be alone," Charles said.

"Is what I want."

"...Why?" Erik asked.

"That is my business," the Italian answered.

"Of course," Charles said calmly, "But if you..."

"I am not interested..."

"You haven't even listened to a word he's said," Erik scoffed.

"...I am not interested, now go," Giorgio finished.

"You're acting very suspiciously," Erik narrowed his eyes, "Anyone would think you've got something to hide."

"Erik," Charles warned quietly.

"Listen to your friend and go."

"We don't even know what he can do yet, Charles..."

"Erik, I know, I've just seen it in his mind and it's true he doesn't need training. It's his choice if he doesn't want to..." Charles said.

"We can't just..."

"I said 'go'," Giorgio reiterated, "I won't ask again," he said, moving towards them with a face screaming out all of his anger and fury. "And you," he began after a moment, turning his attention to Charles, "You say you saw something in my mind...I warn you, if you can do what you say, if you invade my mind, I swear...you will regret it."

Unfortunately, he was taller, and more well built than them but that wasn't going to stop Erik. As Giorgio moved forwards, closer towards Charles, Erik slid quickly in front of his friend and pushed the larger man back. He drove the Italian backwards so that he collided with the wall, rattling the shelf and sending several objects, shattering to the ground.

"Don't even think about it," Erik hissed at him.

"Bastard! Lasciami andare!"

"Erik..."

"You are the cane da guardia, eh? Why? Can he not defend himself?" Giorgio asked smugly despite his position.

"He doesn't have to," Erik replied.

"...So...he sees into minds...and what do you do, eh?" the Italian asked him.

"I'm more interested in what you do," Erik said, "People don't run off into the forest to live in solitude unless they've got a damn good reason to hide. I've only just met you and already I don't like you...Is that it? You take rudeness to a whole new level, is that your ability? To insult everyone you meet?" he asked and Giorgio laughed.

"Call off your guard dog," the Italian said to Charles, "Before I remove you both from my property."

"Call me a guard dog one more time," Erik growled, "And you'll regret it," he added, echoing the mans' earlier words.

"Erik, that's enough," Charles said, moving towards them and laying a hand on his friends' shoulder. "He doesn't want to listen, there's nothing more we can do here," he added.

Erik let out a frustrated snarl, releasing the man from his grasp and Giorgio cracked his neck and straightened his shirt with a shrug of his board shoulders.

"You're a coward. You won't help your own kind...you won't even acknowledge them," Erik said, taking a small step back as he stared at Giorgio for a moment.

"Why is it you think that? Because I don't care for your 'war'?" the Italian scoffed. "I've seen enough war. I'll not be drawn into any more," he added.

"This one is your war to fight," Erik said.

"Now you sound like them," Giorgio scoffed, "I will not fight in any war ever again! I will not go with you."

"As you wish," Charles said before his friend could reply, "We're sorry to have disturbed you. Erik, let's go," he said to Erik who hadn't yet broken eye contact with Giorgio. "...Erik..." Charles repeated when the German didn't even turn around.

"You can't just leave him here," Erik ground out, "He obviously doesn't care about mutants and what if..."

"He won't," Charles said. "_He's telling the truth_," he continued inside his friends' mind, "_He won't join us and he won't join them_."

"_I don't like him_," Erik thought back.

"_I know, but he doesn't much like us either and something tells me he doesn't approve of anyone who walks through that door_," the telepath told his friend.

Erik shook his head and took a step backwards from Giorgio but the Italian saw his chance to express his displeasure by violently forcing Erik across the room. He landed over a small wooden table with a loud and painful sounding crash as the books, mugs and paraphernalia fell to the floor along with the disgruntled German. The dogs began to bark again at this commotion, adding to the already tense and strained atmosphere.

With a face like thunder, Erik got to his feet, shrugging off the bruises he could feel beginning to form as he stormed back towards Giorgio.

"Erik, stop," Charles breathed quickly, grabbing his friends' arm and halting his advance. "...Look at him," he said quietly.

The telepath had good reason to wary. Giorgio was doubled over with his body emitting a faint, amber glow. Charles could sense Giorgio's thoughts rapidly change from definable human anger to something very different, something that he couldn't really describe. It was primal, almost, and much more simplistic. All verbal thought had simply vanished from the Italians' mind, replaced by burning fury and primitive images. Charles didn't understand why but when he tried to delve further into Giorgio's thoughts, looking for an explanation, he was thrown out, much like Erik had been thrown across the room and Charles felt a painful, almost shocking sensation.

"Argh!"

"Charles?" Erik turned to him.

"We have to go...now," Charles said urgently, grasping at his temple with strained fingers.

"What? Why?" Erik frowned.

"It doesn't matter...we have to go," the telepath reiterated and began to make his way towards the door. He seen just just how these 'transformations' needed in Giorgio's mind and they weren't pleasant.

Taking one last glance at the man enveloped in shimmering amber light, Erik decided not to question his friend, who was now very pale and looked very, very worried. They ran out of the cabin and back into the trees just as a loud roar echoed throughout the landscape. It was quickly followed by crashing sounds coming from the wooden structure and the dogs were barking even louder than ever before.

It was then that Erik saw it. He dared to look back on hearing the noises and through the bushes and past the trees he saw a large beast. It was greyish brown in colour with short fur and a long tail. It walked on all fours, its limbs lean and eerily graceful as it moved its long neck to sniff the air.

"My god," Erik muttered, eyes wide in shock as he looked back at the cabin, "...How..is that...is that..."

"Yes, it's him, now come on," Charles replied with heavy breaths as they ran further away.

As they moved they could hear the sounds of the large animal moving inside the forest with them; its large body jostling the bushes and crunching the dry leaves underfoot. But of course, the deeper into the forest they got, the more difficult it became for Charles to keep up with Erik. The telepath tried again to see into Giorgio's thoughts but, just like before, he was thrown out, or rather his efforts almost bounced off giving him a sharp jolt, like an electric shock in his head. This shock made him stop running and Erik spun around, staring at his friend in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"I...it's nothing," Charles said breathlessly and shook his head.

"...Why can't you just freeze it...his...mind?" Erik asked, confused.

"Something is blocking me out," Charles answered.

"But there wasn't earlier?"

"No."

"And there's no metal out here in this damn forest for me to use," Erik hissed, "I suppose I could use my watch and use the metal in it to..."

"No, Erik, I don't want to harm him."

"Are you mad? He's the one hunting us down!"

"He's afraid," Charles breathed, "When he was...when he changed his form his mind went through a transformation as well. I don't know why I can't read his mind when he changes but in the split second before he changed completely all I could sense was...base instincts; fear, survival..."

"...So he's an animal in mind as well as body now?"

"I think so."

"Great," Erik ground out, "...Maybe you just need to think more like an animal," he said sarcastically and Charles scoffed.

Their light heartened conversation wasn't to last as it seemed that Giorgio, or the animal that had been Giorgio, had caught up with them as they hid quickly behind a gathering of large plants. It sniffed and snarled and they could hear it breathing as it drew nearer.

"Can you speak to Azazel from here?" Erik whispered, hopefully to his friend.

"I don't know," Charles frowned. "I keep trying to read Giorgio's mind and it's like I get an electric shock every time. It feels...off...somehow, like it's shorted out my abilities," he said. "I'll try and read yours."

"...Well?" Erik asked after a brief moment.

"I can hear you, but it's...foggy," Charles shook his head.

"And Azazel?"

"Too for away," the telepath sighed after another minute.

"We won't make it back to the car before that...thing...catches us either," Erik breathed.

"We're not going to hurt him..."

"Well, it's either that or let him maul us to death; I don't think those big teeth and claws of his are for show," Erik replied, frustrated. "...Is it...gone?" he asked soon after, narrowing his eyes and looking around.

There was silence where there had previously been crunching leaves and snarled breaths so Erik, slowly stood up from behind the plants and circled around.

"Erik don't..." Charles began just as the animal appeared again.

Up close it was even more fearsome as it swiped with one of its paws at Erik before he could even acknowledge its presence. He was thrown across the forest floor by the sheer force of the animal and his back hit one of the large trees hard enough to make leaves and small clumps of bark fall off around him. The animals' claws had torn the front of his cotton shirt and leather jacket to shreds and dug deep into the flesh beneath. His head lolled down against his shoulders as he tried valiantly just to keep his eyes open.

"Erik!" Charles cried as the beasts' attention turned towards him.

While everything about this creature practically screamed otherworldly and animalistic, the eyes were different. Perhaps it was strange to notice the eyes of the creature that could clearly kill at any moment, but Charles could tell that the eyes remained human where everything else had changed. "...Giorgio?" he questioned quietly as he - 'it' - stepped forwards.

The primitive anger that billowed from him in waves, assaulted Charles' mind and though he tried to reach the mind within the anger, he remained unsuccessful. He clutched at the side of his head as the unintentional bombardment of his mind continued with every step that the animal took towards him. At this rate it wouldn't need to exert any physical effort in taking him out at all; his mind was more than enough to do the job.

Charles tried to fight back in this mental fight, he forced his own thoughts forwards and struck the beast with memories of his own anger and his own pain; memories of long, dark nights sitting alone with the thoughts of a thousand other people for company - company he'd had whether he wanted it or not. He thought of all the anger he'd felt when Erik had left and all of the time he'd spent smashing things to pieces from his own uncontrollable rage. And lastly he thought of all the anger that Erik had felt as a child towards the man who had murdered his mother and imprisoned his people.

While the creature did recoil at this, growling as though it were confused, it didn't stop him as much as Charles had wished. He didn't want to fight but it was more than clear now that this creature would not listen to human reasoning. It didn't have the mind of a human anymore so it would hardly be stopped by the pain and anger that humans felt because it wouldn't fully understand it.

So, as a last resort, Charles conquered up the image of Giorgio, the man, as he had been not long ago before he'd transformed and projected it with as much force as he could muster. He had little doubt that all of the effort he was putting behind his mental attacks would mean that Erik could probably see them too and in much more detail than the animal would see, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. The image of the man he actually was did resound in the creatures' head but not enough to stop its advance on the now mentally exhausted telepath.

But something else did.

A small projectile, a bullet, soared through the air with enough force to displace the air, making a loud 'whoosh' as it flew past. It grazed the right shoulder blade of the creature, making it rear up and roar with fury.

Erik, using all his concentration, had removed all the metal from his watch and used it to form a simple bullet shape. It was difficult to perform such a feat normally, but with a possible concussion, aching muscles and bleeding slashes across his chest it was almost impossible. Just as the animal turned around in the direction the projectile had come from, Erik brought the bullet back through the air and drove it across the creatures forearm and again across its leg without hesitation.

"Erik," Charles cautioned him but he took little notice. Instead, he used his makeshift bullet to cut twice more against the muscles on the creatures' upper arms, tearing the skin and drawing blood.

This constant attack by a bullet he couldn't even see was enraging the animal, confusing it as it spun around, looking in all directions for its mysterious attacker. And while the animal was otherwise distracted, Charles moved slowly towards Erik, making sure not to crush any leaves or twigs underfoot and draw attention to himself. He took slow, small steps and was able to kneel beside his friend with much effort on his aching legs but it was round that time that the animal finally turned towards them.

When it looked as though it would attack them, Erik used his bullet and grazed the animals' neck, hard enough to draw blood without cutting too deeply into the skin. With one final growl at Erik, its eyes narrowed in hate and anger before it took off back to the cabin, no doubt to lick his wounds. Once he was sure it was gone, Erik slumped back against the tree and let out a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

"Erik," Charles breathed, "Erik," he said, gently laying a hand on his friends' shoulder.

"...Mmm..." Erik managed to mumble lightly, but he didn't open his eyes.

"_Look at me, my friend, open your eyes_," Charles said to his friends' mind and though he felt recognition, the German still didn't open his eyes.

All he could do was keep a calming presence in his friends' mind while he winced at the vicious looking wounds on Erik's' chest. He pulled off his dark blue cardigan then tore off one of the sleeves of his white, button up shirt and tried to apply pressure on the wounds. Erik hardly moved. It was then that Charles noticed that there was blood matted in Erik's hair, slowly dripping down his neck from the back of his head where he'd been thrown violently against the tree only minutes ago.

Charles didn't have much to work with. Going back to the cabin was out of the question. He wasn't too sure where exactly the car was and there was no way for him to move Erik into it even if he did know its location. Left with little choice, Charles focused his energies on his telepathic abilities and reached out for Azazel's mind again. Before he knew it, seconds turned into minutes as he tried again and again and when Azazel did eventually hear the professors' voice faintly in his mind he could hardly believe it at first. He knew that the man was miles away and he had no reason to think that the telepath would try and contact him over such a vast distance.

It took a while for Azazel to make out the telepath's worry and concern but he did, cautiously, teleport himself to the location that he could see Charles projecting to him. He hadn't expected to find an unconscious Erik and an exhausted looking Charles who fainted from mental exhaustion the moment he arrived.

So much for their short break.

* * *

When Charles next awoke, he found that a day and a half had passed and even then he woke with a banging headache. But he wasted no time in rising from his bed on uneasy limbs, washing, dressing and then making his way to Erik's room. Hank told him, under persistent questioning, that Erik had been waking up every few hours, making disjointed enquiries and then falling back to sleep again thanks to his concussion. Luckily the wounds on his chest weren't infected but he had a large bruise on the back of his head and matching ones on his back.

He spent the next three days at his friends' bedside, talking to him when he woke for brief period, mostly in German because it was the language that Erik tended to use when he woke. Charles kept a calming presence in Erik's mind, keeping the nightmares away and bringing the good memories and dreams forwards. It wasn't until the end of the third night that Erik awoke with a degree of coherency that lasted for more than five minutes. He not only looked around the room, becoming awake of his surroundings for the first time in days, but he also tried to sit up and with a lot of effort on half asleep muscles he succeeded, partly, at least.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend," Charles said with a relieved smile.

"...How...how long was I..."

"Four days now, I was asleep on the first day, I'll admit," the telepath answered.

"...And the...the mutant...the man..."

"Giorgio?" Charles supplied and Erik nodded, "Still in his cabin in Canada. I thought it best not to return...It's rather a shame we got off on the wrong foot...I rather felt that you and he were a lot alike," he remarked.

"Hah," Erik scoffed.

"No, it's true; you're both stubborn, talented, determined...and you've both seen things that no man should ever have to see."

"Hmm," the German snorted, looking away.

"You know...things didn't exactly go according to plan when I suggested we take the long route to Quebec," Charles said. "I'm sorry you were hurt," the telepath sighed, "I tried to stop him."

"I know, I saw what you showed him...I don't remember all of it...just pieces of it," Erik shrugged.

"He could have killed you," Charles said, melancholy.

"It's not the first time someone could have killed me," Erik replied, nonchalantly.

"You could have killed him."

"You didn't want me to," the German furrowed his brow and Charles gave a sad smile.

"I want to see you hurt even less," he admitted, making his friend fall silent.

"How did we get back?" Erik asked after a minute or two.

"...Azazel brought us here," Charles answered evasively.

"...But...he was too far away for you to reach...wasn't he?"

"It took a while," the telepath said, "I wish I could've done it sooner but the anger that I felt from Giorgio when he was...I don't know exactly what it did but it made it even more difficult than it should have been. I'm surprised it actually worked, if I'm honest."

"But you're fine now?" Erik asked quickly.

"Yes," Charles laughed incredulously, "I'm fine. I'm not the one recovering from a concussion and numerous lacerations, my friend."

"...I...someone kept talking to me...I think..." the German frowned and gently probed the back of his head and tentative fingers soon found the very tender spot responsible for his concussion.

"Yes, my German wasn't brilliant to start off with, I'm afraid," the telepath gave a sheepish smile, "At one point you tried to correct me on my pronunciation before you fell asleep."

"That was you?"

"Mmm," Charles nodded.

"...So...I finally found something you can't do better than everyone else," Erik said, smiling.

"And that makes you happy?"

"Of course," the German deadpanned. "...You know...at some point...we'll probably end up seeing him again," Erik remarked.

"Yes," Charles agreed.

"And when we do, I'll pay him back for this."

"I wouldn't blame you, but I don't think it would be wise."

"I didn't expect you to...Until that happens, though, I think you need to brush up on your German," Erik said with a smile to his friend.

"Only if you'll help me."

"I never thought I'd see the day; Charles Xavier asking for help."

"Very droll, Erik."

* * *

Lasciami andare! - Let me go!

cane da guardia - guard dog

* * *

A.N. In case anyone didn't realise it, Giorgio is an OC.


	18. Late September, 1963, Friday 27th

**Late September, 1963, Friday.**

* * *

"Up a little late, aren't we?"

"You knew I'd come out here," Raven stated sadly, "...Because you read my mind," she said as she slid down off the window ledge and onto the gravel covered ground.

"No, I knew you'd come down here because you always have when you were troubled. Ever since I started telling you the stories about the stars," Charles replied as he looked up at the nights' sky. "You're still my sister," he said.

Raven walked to stand a short distance away from the telepath; close enough to hear him but farther away than one would typically stand from a close relative. "It's a beautiful night," Charles stated, "...Tell me truthfully, why are you here?" he asked after a minute.

"Why?" she repeated incredulously, "Charles you're my brother."

"And for the last year, I haven't been, is that it?"

"What?"

"I'm afraid the fault is mine," Charles sighed, "You deserved a better brother...I know that now."

"What do you..."

"I've been meaning to talk to you...but I didn't know what to say," he frowned, "I thought about this every day and I still don't know. I just ever thought you'd be...here again."

"...Neither did I..." Raven admitted heavily. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. Erik was so sure that by avoiding you we'd...well...not just him. I wanted to see you but...things were...difficult..."

"Difficult?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "Look at me Raven, I lost everything that day. I lost my legs, I lost a trusted friend and I lost you..."

"You said it was fine if I..."

"Of course I did, I want you to be happy," Charles said. "I understand why you left. You think I don't, but I do. On this, I must admit that Erik was right; he gave you something that I didn't even realise you needed until it was too late...You're a beautiful woman, Raven, you've never needed a disguise, I'm only sorry I didn't tell you that before."

"I...I don't understand you, Charles. How can you forgive Erik...me...so easily? We left you bleeding on that beach and it's haunted me ever since. I still believe that we shouldn't be hiding but I don't want us to be enemies. The real enemies are out there..."

"Raven..."

"I still believe that," she repeated, "...But for a while, all I did was try and convince Erik to come back."

"Why did you stop?" Charles asked.

"I saw just how much they hate us," Raven said, "And I started to hate...your optimism. People aren't always good."

"They're not always bad, either."

"Maybe not, but the bad always outweighs the good."

"You sound like Erik."

"Well, he's right. I don't know what's going to happen if we stay here. I don't want to argue with you but I'm tired of feeling like I'm...worth less than they are because of how I was born. It's not right."

"No, it isn't and I know that I've contributed to that feeling," Charles closed his eyes in disgust - at himself. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for that," he said. "...It wasn't easy, you know, both you and Erik seem to think that this has all been easy to deal with..."

"Charles..."

"I was...so angry...ask Hank and the others; for a while I think they were actually afraid of me...for me...I'd never really hated what I was until then," he admitted. "I tried to stop using my abilities for a while. I thought I hated them, too."

"I'd still do it again," Raven sighed, "That's what makes it worse. I didn't understand - I still don't, how you could see good in them when they were about to destroy us because of the way we'd saved them. I don't think I ever will."

"I hope you will, one day."

"I'm not so sure I'll ever be able to see things the way you do," she frowned, "You don't know what we've seen since that day."

"I have a fairly good idea," Charles replied enigmatically, "And, no, before you ask again, I'm not in your mind."

"...I think Erik was more afraid of that than anything else, maybe even more than a war with humans; that you'd find us and then we'd have to..."

"Yes, he did say something about that."

"He never told me but I guessed, I didn't think he'd ever admit it," Raven admitted..

"And I don't think he'll ever admit to me me just why he's here now," Charles said.

"...I...I'm not exactly sure myself," she furrowed her brow, "I don't think Azazel is either."

"No, I know," the telepath sighed.

"I'm just sorry that Angel and Riptide aren't here with us. They're good people, Charles, I thought Emma was too but she's..." Raven breathed, searching for the right word but not finding one sufficient. "At first she was fine; she did what Erik said but after a while she...changed...she didn't listen to anyone but she didn't dare disobey Erik. I don't mind fighting her if we have to...but I just can't see the others as enemies. They're my friends. My brothers and sisters."

"Yes, I'm still hopeful that they're not lost to us yet," Charles said to her with a smile. "After all, you and Erik are here, aren't you?"

"You still don't hate them?"

"That's a difficult question for me to answer; I'm not a saint, Raven, I have hate in me. Over the last months I've hated Erik with anger so deep I didn't know I was capable of it and despite what I told you on the beach, I can't deny that I was angry at you as well. I was all but ready to abandon the search for other mutants and wallow in my study forever...as the others will no doubt attest to."

"...What changed?" Raven asked, with teary eyes, though determined not to shed a tear.

"For a while, nothing," Charles shrugged, "Then...Alex told me one day that he wanted to bring his brother here so. I said 'no' at first, I wasn't thinking clearly. I'd stopped using my abilities and...the results weren't pleasant. But when I saw him in Alex's mind I couldn't go on saying 'no'. I couldn't carry on with all that anger knowing that there were people like Scott out there without no one to help them."

"So, you threw yourself into your work...like you always do," she scoffed with a smile.

"Yes," he agreed.

"...I missed you, Charles," Raven breathed after a minute.

"You could have come back sooner," he stated.

"I know..."


	19. Early October, 1969

**Early October, 1969.**

* * *

"No...they can't..." Erik said.

"I knew it was only a matter of time," Charles sighed.

"They don't have to go, we have a more important war to fight," Erik growled.

"I've already tried to talk to them...they won't listen. They won't let me alter the that that..."

"You could make them!"

"...I can't..." Charles sighed, "I won't."

"Not even to save them?!"

"They know what they're risking and they've been prepared since..."

"Charles, they're your students!"

"That's why I'll never do it."

"...Well...if they must go...Azazel and I will go with them, I can keep them safe. We've both seen more than enough war to know what to expect."

"Erik...I don't want any of you to go," Charles sighed, leaning against his desk as the pain in his legs continued as his stress levels increased. But that was the least of his worries.

"You know they'll be much safer with me there; none of their little human weapons can hurt me," Erik said.

"I wish I could help...but..." Charles hissed as one of his hands balled into a fist against his leg in frustration.

"You can't, Charles, this place needs you far more than it needs me."

"With all of this happening, trying to keep a school running seems rather insignificant," the telepath said sadly.

"That would be true if this were a normal school for normal people," Erik told him.

"There'll hardly be anyone left once you've all gone."

"How is Hank going to deal with this?" Erik asked suddenly, "He couldn't go, surely...not without someone noticing his..."

"Fur?" Charles finished for him. "Yes, there is that. But he believes that he's almost completed a serum that will allow him to control his mutation. To change his appearance."

"What if it isn't ready?"

"I don't know."

"He should stay here and protect everyone that's left," Erik said.

"He...wants to go..."

"And Darwin, what about him? He'll hardly be drafted...isn't he still technically dead in the eye of the law?"

"Yes, we declared him dead when we put up the headstone four years ago. He won't be drafted," Charles answered. "But that isn't likely to stop him from going, not while everyone else is going off to fight. He won't want to be the only one staying."

"...Humans and their stupid wars," Erik sighed, "What have they got to fight about amongst themselves, anyway?"

"Plenty...unfortunately."

"And you still insist that they're good?"

"Times like this make me wonder," Charles replied ruefully, he couldn't help the bitterness in his voice. Alex, Hank and Sean had been drafted for the Vietnam war and Charles was arguably having the most difficult time in accepting it. "How can I even hope for peace between us and them when they find so many reasons to fight against themselves, let alone mutants?" he sighed quietly.

"I hope you don't expect me to answer that?" Erik asked sarcastically, prompting a small smile from his friend.

"No," Charles said, "I don't think there is an answer. Now, perhaps, you can see why I don't want war between us and them...there's enough fighting in the world already."

"That's not something you can change."

"I suppose not...I'd rather you stayed here."

"I'm still going to go," Erik said quickly.

"I wish you wouldn't."

"You'd rather your students died over there?"

"Of course not."

"Then let's stop going round in circles, Charles. You know I can handle this."

"You're not going off on a mission to find some little files from a government vault, Erik, this is war, a real war and I..."

"I've been in a war before."

"Exactly, so you shouldn't have to go through another one. You've been through enough already."

"If I help stop this ridiculous war, we can get back to fighting the one that matters."

"This one matters," Charles said, "Every war matters."

"Not to mutants."

"Mutants have died in this war, too."

"Fighting for people that don't even know about their abilities," Erik hissed.

"I wish things were different," Charles sighed.

"So do I..." Erik agreed, "...When...when do they have to leave?" he asked after a moment.

"A week...at the latest."

"Hmm," the German nodded, "I suppose I should tell them that they'll have company."

"Erik...be careful."

"I'm not leaving yet."

"...I know..."


	20. Early May, 1964

**Early May, 1964.**

* * *

Charles sat in his wheelchair in the underground bunker with a pensive furrow in his brow. He knew that this was a bad idea, in fact, it was quite possibly one of his worst ideas to date.

The machine was still in its infancy. Cerebro was nowhere near finished and yet as Charles cradled the head piece in his hands, he couldn't bring himself to put it away. He and Hank had been continually adding to the device which was why it wasn't completed. Their most recent theory had boosted the power that Cerebro had and now it should be able to give Charles a much larger telepathic radius than before. The entire world to be precise whereas before it had been limited to one continent. Hank had though it reckless but after much persuading, he'd gone ahead with it.

The sensible thing to do would be to leave the device alone until it was completed and safe to use but he was tired of being useless. He wasn't used to having to sit around all day, every day without being able to move around and at least try and make himself useful. Now he had to rely on people to do the simplest things for him in his own home and it was beginning to ware him down.

Still unsure as to why he'd chosen now specifically to test Cerebro, Charles tried to push aside his conflicted thoughts and he lowered the headpiece onto his head.

* * *

At the same time, Hank was walking down the main staircase, past the large window streaming in the early morning sun when he suddenly keeled over, his hands gripping the sides of his head as it was assaulted by an overwhelming feeling of agony. At first it was unbearable, it felt as though his mind was being pulled in every direction and as though his head were in a vice being tightly squeezed but after a time it dimmed to more tolerable levels.

Erik and Raven had been outside, quietly talking and they threw open the main doors, running into the foyer with the same confused expression on their faces as Hank.

"You felt that too?" Erik asked as he saw the scientist standing on the stairs.

"Yeah," the blue furred mutant nodded.

"What was it?" he German frowned.

"I...I don't know..."

"...I think...it was Charles..." Raven said after a moment.

"Why would he..." Erik began.

"He used to call it 'projecting'," she said, "It never really happened often, even when he was younger, he had great control...This hasn't happened for years...but it felt the same."

"So why is it happening now?" Erik asked.

"It used to happen when he was afraid or when he couldn't control hearing so many voices..."

"He was fine yesterday..." Hank said calmly before his eyes widened in realisation. "He's must be using it...he must be using Cerebro!" he deduced quickly.

"Why is that bad?" Raven asked, confused at the shocked urgency in his voice.

"It's not ready yet, we keep adding to it, so it isn't finished...something could go wrong..."

"Looks like it already is," Erik said, "Where do you keep it?"

"The bunker," he answered and quickly, the three of them ran through the mansion.

The large metal door, though upgraded and improved in recent months was little match for Erik and it opened with ease. Charles had begun working on extensive blueprints to expand the underground levels beneath the house but so far nothing had been yet been built.

Once they entered the single roomed bunker, what they expected to see wasn't there. Charles was sat at the far end wearing the headpiece connected to the machinery scattered around but that was the only thing they could recognise. The muted grey of the reinforced concrete walls was gone, as was the floor and the ceiling, so they weren't exactly sure what they were standing on. Instead, everything was black, pitch black with millions upon millions of tiny lights shining in the blackness, like fairy lights strung up without order.

"What the..." Raven breathed as they took in the strange sight, all three of them speechless.

They stood with their eyes transfixed at what they saw until Charles' quiet whimpers and grunts broke the silence.

"Is it...supposed to do...this?" Erik asked Hank as they moved carefully towards the telepath, mindful of the fact that they still couldn't see the floor they were standing on.

"I don't know...we haven't tested it...We weren't exactly sure what would happen..."

"What are the lights?" Raven asked.

"I'm not sure, but when he told me about what happened when he used the old machine, he said he saw every mind as a light...I guess those are people's minds..."

"But why can we see them?" she asked and Hank shook his head.

"This never happened before, right?" Erik asked Hank.

"You don't understand...we made this one a hundred times more powerful than the original. It has a far larger radius than just one continent and we couldn't work out a way to limit it's reach...I don't even know if it has one..."

"...It doesn't..." Charles spoke quietly and unevenly.

"Professor?" Hank furrowed his brow.

"...It doesn't have a limit...I can hear...everyone...so many voices..."

"Everyone?" Erik repeated.

"...He's not just seeing mutants in a set radius...he's seeing everyone's mind..." Hank breathed, "Every mind on the planet all at once..."

"Then shut it down!" the German yelled.

"So many...voices..." Charles ground out a a tear slid down his face, "Too many voices..."

"Charles, look at me!" Raven cried, falling to her knees before the telepath and cupping his' face between shaking, blue hands. She went to remove the helmet but Hank grabbed her hand and stopped her before she could do so. "What are you doing?!" she demanded.

"If you do that while he's connected to so many minds who knows what would happen - to him or them...us...I don't know if there'd be any side effects, remember, this machine is different from the old one," the scientist answered gravely.

"It can't be any worse than this! Look at him!" Erik shrugged.

"You think I can't see that, I..." Hank yelled back but Charles' desperate voice stopped him.

"Make it stop..." Charles breathed quietly, "Too much...too much pain...too much suffering...Erik...help me..."

"My friend..." the German sighed deeply as he knelt in front of his friend after Raven stood aside, "You need to stop..."

"No...no, I can't," the telepath shook his head, screwing his eyes tightly shut.

They could feel the confusion in his mind, the fear and the agony of thousands of people across the globe all thinking at the same time. He couldn't concentrate on anything. It was impossible. The closest mind he could sense was Erik's, not two metres away from him and he could feel that the German was concerned about him. Charles saw himself through Erik's eyes but he couldn't contain his mind. He couldn't help but remember everything that Erik had done and just how much his friend had hurt him.

Charles knew that anger wouldn't solve anything but he was so attuned to Erik's mind that it was easy to focus on that rather than the chaotic cacophony of noise all around him. The white lights suddenly turned red and colours began to spiral out of control around them as Charles gripped the sides of his head with a grimace.

"Charles..." the German tried again.

"No...not you..."

"I want to help you..." Erik said, confused at Charles sudden changeability. He and the others could feel a fraction of the chaos that was ruling the telepath's mind and it was enough to make them feel dizzy and queasy but they were determined to stay.

"You abandoned me!" Charles yelled suddenly, both verbally and mentally, loud enough for everyone else in the large building to hear his voice breaking in his agony.

"I..." Erik breathed quietly, his eyes guilty.

"The machine's overloading," Hank breathed quickly. He moved quickly to stand by the professor and he began flicking switches and pressing buttons with desperate urgency but the atmosphere of the projection that Charles was creating, showed no signs of dissipating.

"How could you do that to me?! To me, Erik!" Charles cried.

"Professor..." the scientist breathed quickly.

"...No...I didn't...I didn't mean..." the telepath said, much more quietly, "I...argh...my head..." he muttered, burying his face in his hands. "...Stop...enough!" he ground out and instantly, the strange, chaotic projection vanished, revealing the walls, floor and ceiling.

Charles fell forwards, the helmet clattering to the floor from his hands as Erik prevented his friend from making the same fall to the hard ground.

"Charles, look at me," the German said quickly, holding gently grasping his friends' shoulders and easing him back into the wheelchair, "Open your eyes," he said and slowly, the telepath did so and he focused with weary, confused eyes.

"...Erik?" he questioned.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked with repressed fury.

"...I'm..."

"What the hell were you thinking?!" his friend cut across him.

"I was..." Charles shook his head, "...It...Cerebro...it works..."

"Did you see yourself a minute ago? Surely you don't consider...that...a success?!"

"I call it progress."

"Charles..." Erik sighed and shook his head, choosing to focus on Charles' obstinacy rather than his earlier agony. Specifically his accusation that Erik had abandoned him.

Though he knew that Charles hadn't quite been in his right mind when he'd said it, it had still cut deep. Erik knew full well that he'd abandoned his friend and what made it worse was he knew that he'd probably do the same thing over again if he had the chance to go back. It hadn't been his intention for Charles to get shot but he had offered, that day, for the two of them to work together. It was only months later that he learned just what his approach would lead to.

No matter how many times Charles said he harboured no ill will towards him, he knew that somewhere, deep down, there must be something and this proved it. It didn't mean that Charles was a liar. The telepath trusted him, Erik knew that but the rift he'd created that day wasn't fully healed and perhaps it never would be. Not completely.

"It still needs more work, though," Charles remarked.

"Professor, you shouldn't have...tested it," Hank said.

"I know, Hank...but I...I want to be...useful," the telepath told him, "I rely on you all enough as it is, at least when this is..."

"That's not your fault," the scientist replied, shooting a pointed look at an already guilt riddled Erik.

"...What were the lights, Charles?" Raven asked in an attempt to part the thick atmosphere.

"You saw them?"

"Hmm," she nodded.

"It's what I see when I...I suppose because this one has more power it means I can show you, too," Charles said, pensively.

"Doesn't it give you a headache?"

"It certainly did this time," he gave her a small smile, "But I suppose that's my own fault."

"Is that something else we'll have to work on, then?" Hank asked.

"I don't think so, no," Charles answered, "I think I just need practice."

"Practice!" Erik scoffed, "You were going out of your mind!"

"It's not the first time I've been overwhelmed by voices. I adapted when I was a child and I'll be able to learn again. It happened every time my abilities grew and I was exposed to an increasing number of minds. This is just another challenge."

"You really did lose your mind," the German blinked, astonished at this blasé attitude.

"That's probably not the best joke to make with a telepath," Charles deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

"Who's joking?!" Erik said, throwing out his arms in frustration.

"...Erik...what I said before...I didn't mean..." Charles said a minute later in a quiet voice.

"Yes you did...and I understand," Erik said sadly.

"No, I..."

"You were right, it's the truth, so what does it matter?"

"It matters because I..."

"It doesn't, it's fine," Erik said and walked off towards the door, leaving the three staring at his retreating back in surprise.

"Professor, let him go," Hank said when Charles began to follow his friend, "We have to finish Cerebro before you use it again. We may as well work on that now."

"...Yes...yes, alright then," Charles sighed.


	21. Mid October, 1969

**Mid October, 1969.**

* * *

The atmosphere in the car was tense as Raven pulled the large vehicle to a stop in the busy car park of the military facility. She had tried using all her efforts to convince he brother and Erik that she was more than capable of fighting in Vietnam with them and while they acknowledged that she was correct, neither of them wanted her to go. She could easily disguise herself as a man and not have any difficulties but to keep the school running they needed a certain amount of teachers. She was staying for the children but she wasn't happy about it.

Azazel was also torn. On the one hand he knew that he should go with Erik but on the other hand, he'd come to respect the professor and he wanted to protect the man and his students. It helped that he could teleport anywhere he wanted, so if Charles sensed a problem he could easily go to Erik or the others and take them to safety. And while, at first, Erik had been of the opinion that he would be better suited to go with them to Vietnam, the other day the German had changed his mind and had all but threatened him to stay at the manor.

It was thanks to the professors' abilities in telepthy that he was able to get out of the car and stand in the car park without drawing attention to his red skin and tail. Not that he wanted to hide, of course, but until things changed he had little choice.

Alex was the next one to exit the vehicle and he slung his bag over his shoulder as the others followed suit. Erik helped Charles out of the car and the telepath stood leaning heavily against his cane and he surveyed the despondent damces of his friends around him.

"You will be careful, won't you," Charles breathed, not knowing what else to say.

"We'll do our best," Hank replied with a small smile. He'd managed to finish his serum which would allow him to control his mutation and appear 'normal' and so he'd had to hide it all inside his bag and hope that no one found it.

"But it's likely that one or two of us'll end up getting...owww!" Sean broke off as Alex elbowed him in the stomach.

"It's not like you won't be able to speak to us until...well...you can use Cerebro whenever you want to," Darwin said to the professor after glaring at Sean.

"Yeah, it's like a giant phone," Sean said, smiling.

"With our heads as receivers," Darwin muttered.

"Things won't be the same without you all. I've gotten rather used to having you around the manor," Charles remarked.

"I don't think you'll be bored," Sean said, "Everyone else'll keep you busy."

"No doubt," the professor chuckled briefly.

"...We'd erm...better go," Alex said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Alright," Charles sighed, "Come here," he said, pulling the younger mutant into a one armed hug. "I'll miss you, you know...all of you."

"We won't be gone forever," Alex said.

"I hope not," Charles muttered quietly, taking the time to hug Hank, Darwin and Sean as well.

"...See you round, guys," Darwin waved briefly at Raven and Azazel.

When the three of them took off at a slow pace across to the buildings at the other end of the car park, Erik stayed behind, standing beside Charles. The two meandered aimlessly a short distance away from Raven and Azazel who stayed by the car.

"Erik..." Charles began.

"Don't, Charles, I'm going and nothing you say will change that now," Erik replied.

"...I know," the telepath sighed.

"...Will you be able to keep the school going?" the German asked, attempting to prolong his goodbye.

"I'm not sure. Those with parents will probably be sent home until..." he sighed, "And those without...well, they'll be able to stay under the radar and remain at the manor with me."

"You will let me know if Emma and the others..."

"You'll have more than enough to worry about over there," Charles said quickly.

"Charles, if something happens here you'll need us..."

"If I need you, I will tell you," the telepath replied, "But I can protect myself and the children if necessary."

"Well, Raven's staying and so is Azazel, I just about managed to talk him round."

"It was your idea for him to go with you in the first place," Charles pointed out.

"I know, but I..." Erik trailed off.

"You're not worrying about me, are you? You're the one about to fight in a war, Erik, not me."

"I don't need to worry about myself. I'm going to fight in a war ruled by metal. I've no need to be afraid."

"You're not invincible, you know that."

"I am compared to the people I'll be fighting."

"Just don't forget that," Charles said. "They don't have the abilities that you have. They don't have that same assurance that they'll come out of this alive."

"I'm not afraid."

"That's what worries me; overconfidence isn't necessarily a good thing," the telepath stated.

"Just...stop being a professor for one minute, Charles, please..."

"I'm not trying to be...though I do suppose that I'm attempting to prolong the inevitable."

"...Me too," Erik smiled, "Last time I left I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again," he admitted. "Well...goodbye, Charles," he said after taking a deep breath.

"Goodbye, my friend," the telepath responded with a grim expression as they shook hands.

"This time, I am sure I'll see you again," Erik said, breaking their handshake.

"You better be," Charles told him, pulling the somewhat reluctant man into a firm embrace. "_I won't be far away_," he added inside his friends' mind.

"_Good_," Erik replied and took a a step back.

With a final, pointed glance at Raven and Azazel, who nodded to him briefly, Erik finally turned and followed off in the footsteps of Alex, Hank, Sean and Darwin towards the military facility.


	22. Mid June, 1970

**Mid June, 1970.**

* * *

"Good morning, Mrs. Maximoffs," Charles smiled.

"Great," the woman sighed heavily taking in the two people standing on her doorstep.

Charles was stood with Raven beside him, both dressed casually with sunglasses for the warm summer day. "What's he done now? I'll...I'll write you a cheque for whatever he's stolen..." she continued.

"No," Charles stopped her kindly, "That won't be necessary, we just want to talk to your son."

"Peter," the woman called into the house, "The cops are here...again," she sighed, letting the two of them in. After showing them to the door leading to the basement she shook her head and left them to it.

Charles navigated the stairs with caution and there, they found a young man playing table tennis against himself. He would be at one end of the table and then he'd appear at the other in time to hit the ball back.

"Hello, Peter," Charles said, smiling.

"I didn't do anything," he said quickly, "Been here all day."

"Yes, I can see that," the telepath said, glancing at the piles of wrappers and discarded pieces of paraphernalia covering the floor.

"So who are you?" the boy asked appearing in a chair behind him.

Charles smiled at Peter, not batting an eyelid at his blatant use of his ability and this seemed to surprise the younger mutant. "My name is Charles Xavier and this is my sister, Raven, I'm a professor..."

"Aren't professors meant to be old?" Peter asked, whisking past Charles and removing his wallet. He opened it and examined its contents, "Professor of genetics...sounds boring," he read, tossing the wallet aside.

"Hmm," Charles hummed as he retrieved his wallet.

"You're certainly not shy about using your powers," Raven grinned and crossed her arms.

"Powers? What powers? You see something strange here? Nothing anyone would believe if you told them," Peter replied then rushed past them and began to play table tennis against himself again.

"Not necessarily..." Charles said.

"What would you know about it?" he scoffed and Charles raised an eyebrow, turning to his sister who nodded and immediately changed her appearance to match Peter's own.

"A lot more than you think," she said in his voice. This of course, got his attention and he blinked in astonishment.

"...That's pretty cool," he said, "...I look good," he grinned before Raven changed into her natural form with blue skin and red hair.

"As I said, I'm a professor and I'm here to offer you a place at my school..."

"What makes you think I'd be interested in going to school?"

"This is no ordinary school, Peter, just as you are no ordinary human. You're a very special individual. You're a mutant...like Raven and I."

"You too?"

"I'm a telepath."

"Huh," Peter breathed, "That's not as cool as what she can do," he said smiling at Raven.

"...You know, Peter, when I met your mother a moment ago the first thing she said to me was that she'd pay for anything you'd stolen..."

"Yeah?" Peter shrugged.

"She thinks you're wasting your life, she's worried about you."

"...So?"

"Is this how you want to spend your entire life? Living in a basement and...pulling cheap tricks for fun?" he said, raising his wallet lightly.

"What would you know?"

"I know you think that deep down I'm right, I know you're not afraid of who you are but you're afraid of what people would do to your mother if they found out just what you are."

"I like what I am," Peter shot back.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't...but I also know that you're bored," Charles remarked, "Nothing is challenging enough for you."

"And?"

"You want a challenge," Charles stated, "I guarantee you that this will be interesting enough even for you."

"...Who's ever gonna believe that I got given a place in a private school?"

"Let me deal with that," Charles said quickly.

"...Huh...guess being a telepath makes things easy for you."

"In some ways, yes."

"So...say I went along with this...what's in it for me?"

"Aside from a challenge?" Raven said, "You get to live in a mansion with other people like you."

"A mansion?" Peter repeated, his eyes widening, "...It have good security?"

"The best, though I'm sure you wouldn't mind testing it for us," Charles replied.

"...Well..."

"You don't have to make a decision now," Charles said, pocketing his wallet and handing a leaflet to Peter. "Here, for your mother," he said.

"School for Gifted Youngsters," Peter read, "...Looks...expensive."

"That's the idea," the telepath said.

"I really don't think some expensive...place like this is for me," the younger mutant shook his head.

"I think you might like it, actually," Charles told him, "And you wouldn't have to pay anything."

"Well, she," Peter began gesturing towards the door, "Thinks you're cops."

"Not a problem," the telepath reiterated.

"Right...telepath," he frowned. "Why should I trust you?" Peter asked after a moment.

"That's entirely up to you," Charles shrugged.

"So...I don't have to pay?"

"No."

"I get to live in a mansion?"

"Yes."

"I could leave whenever I want?"

"I doubt there are many who could stop you."

"And I get to see other people who are...different?"

"Yes," Charles repeated.

"...Alright, I'm in," Peter smiled.

* * *

A.N. I should probably mention that Peter isn't going to be Erik's son in my story.


	23. Mid August, 1972

**Mid August, 1972.**

* * *

"...We have a duty, as Americans, as human beings, to face this threat head on. This new race...this new species, is nothing less than the greatest threat to human freedom of our time. Now, we can stand by and watch our race fade out...or we can choose survival..." Bolivar Trask spoke with vigour and aggression on the television screen before the eyes of a very concerned Charles Xavier.

To say that he was on edge lately was something of an understatement.

Alex had returned from Vietnam severely wounded by shrapnel not five months ago and Hank had been forced to return when his serum had ran out about a fortnight ago as well. And to top everything off, Charles had almost collapsed three days ago from the fear and agony he'd felt from Angel and Riptide who'd been captured by the same man who was speaking on the television. When he'd told Raven she'd all but leapt into action. It had been difficult and it had taken them almost two days of planning, but they'd rescued both mutants from the maximum security site, with help from Azazel and Peter who had taken to calling himself Quicksilver. Both injured mutants were now sleeping soundly above their heads and Charles knew that this broadcast was Trasks' revenge. He was working to turn the entire world against mutants.

The telepath shook his head sadly as Raven came into the room, scowling at the screen before turning stalking past it and crossing her arms as she leant against the corner of the window. She stood there, silently, staring out at the grounds of the manor as Trask continued to talk.

"How are they?" Charles asked her unnecessarily as he flicked off the television.

"...Sleeping," Raven answered, "Angel will be fine after a while, I think...but Riptide's in a bad way...I should have gotten there sooner," she ground out.

"You weren't to know that any of this would happen."

"...No..." she sighed, "They won't be too happy when they wake up here, you know."

"We'll deal with that later," Charles replied.

"Charles...you never did tell me...where is Emma...and the others?"

"I didn't tell you, Raven, because I don't know. She is able to block me and wherever it is that she's choosing to hide is shielded from my abilities...like the mirror room was in Shaw's submarine, remember?"

"...Yes, Erik did tell me about that...But surely Emma can't still be working with the CIA...not after all this."

"I don't think even she knows what she wants anymore," Charles said, "After this though, I think it likely that she'll start to persecute people like Trask."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"No, Raven, it isn't," he stressed. "If we do, we'll become everything they say we are..."

"People like him don't deserve to live. What did he want from them, anyway?"

"He took their blood...which means..."

"He can study their powers," she breathed, turning to face her brother, "He's studying us."

"Yes," Charles sighed.

"We have to stop him."

"On what grounds?" he asked, standing up and throwing out his arms.

"On the grounds that he tortured two of our own kind!"

"Two people who've killed others without provocation before. No one would believe you even if you announced this to the general public like he is," Charles said. "I'm not condoning what he did. I hate this, Raven. I hate it."

"Did you tell them...Erik and the others, I mean?" she asked slowly.

No, not yet," he answered, "Erik has enough to worry about."

"You're just worried he'd come back and go after Trask, aren't you?"

"...Maybe," he stood beside her and smiled.

"Things will get worse," Raven stated.

"I'm well aware of that."

"You can't plan to sit around and do nothing about this. Whose to say we wouldn't be next on his list?"

"We're safe here, you know that," he said.

"But for how long?" she asked sadly.

"...I've not slept since this happened...I can't," Charles admitted, "I've been trying to find Emma...but I can't. I should have done something more but I don't know what..."

"You're not to blame, neither am I...Trask is."

"Yes, he is."

"Don't worry, Charles," she scoffed, "Not yet, anyway. I'm staying with them, at least until they wake up," she said, "After that I can't promise I won't go after him. We may be working on different sides but they are my family as much as you are. We're all the same. We have to look out for each other."

"I agree with you," Charles said, "They wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Yes, they would, Charles, that's just who you are," Raven told him with a rueful smile. "But we have to let people know that we can protect ourselves. They have to know that we'll protect each other."

"Yes, but killing people isn't the way to achieve anything."

"You've given me this lecture over a hundred times, Charles..."

"And I will continue to do so, because I believe it."

"And do you think Trask even acknowledged your views when he tortured Angel and Riptide?"

"No, I don't," he sighed, "That's why we have to be the better people."

"...How did he even capture them?" Raven shook her head, incredulously as she tried to change the subject. Charles, of course, knew that she was doing so but he chose not to mention it.

"They were attempting to capture him," Charles said, "On Emma's orders."

"What?"

"She knows, like everyone else, that Trask is no friend of mutant kind; she wanted to make an example of him. That's all that Angel and Riptide knew, at least."

"And she only sent two of them?"

"Yes...it's possible that she intended for them to be injured or even killed in the process to inspire other mutants to act out violently against people like Trask," he said.

"But we...they...we all..." Raven muttered in confusion, "We all...worked together...for our cause...how...she wouldn't betray them..."

"There are other possibilities," Charles told her.

"Like what? No, you know as well as I do that you're right. It's just the kind of thing she would do...Erik would have stopped her...if he was still..."

"In command of the Brotherhood, yes," he nodded.

"But he isn't...he doesn't want to be, not anymore...not since we...came back...and you know why, don't you?"

"...I do," Charles admitted.

"He told you?"

"He did."

"I know you won't tell me...but...just answer me one question..."

"What?"

"Is it a good reason?" she asked simply but with confidence.

"Yes," Charles said with conviction and she nodded.

"...Alright," she said, "Alright then. I guess that'll have to do."

"I'm sorry, Raven," he breathed and she shrugged.

"It's fine...really."

"...It could be a while before your friends are well enough to leave," Charles said after a minute, their previous conversation clearly over and done with.

"I'll talk to them as soon as they wake up," Raven replied, "Although I'm not sure that they'll consider me a friend anymore. I left them willingly, after all, and I haven't seen them for years."

"But you saved them."

"That won't matter to them," she insisted.

"I think it will."

"...I hope so."


	24. Early February, 1965

**Early February, 1965. **

* * *

Charles gritted his teeth and leaned heavily against his desk as the throbbing pain his his legs and back increased with each second he remained standing. He knew it was probably a poor choice to continue to strain himself like this, but he was stubborn. His stubbornness had been building for days.

It had been almost a month since he'd taken the injection that Hank had devised in the hopes of being able to walk again, and little by little he'd slowly, and painfully regained the strength in his muscles and the nerves that had been damaged had begun to fix themselves. At first he'd been hard pressed to even stand up unaided let alone walk by himself, but now, he'd just walked from his bed to his desk and he definitely was feeling the strain in his muscles despite the happiness he felt at his victory.

As he let go of his vice like grip on the edge of the desk, however, he fell to the ground with a painful grunt as his body slammed onto the carpet.

"...Damn..." he muttered angrily to himself and trying to push himself up from the floor proved to be much more difficult than he'd expected. His legs felt as heavy as lead weights, making it impossible for him to move.

Taking deep, heavy breaths, he leaned his back against the hard wood of the desk and rested his head back as he worked to control his breathing. He wasn't sure how many minutes passed between then and some time later when he heard quiet footsteps walking down the corridor outside his bedroom. It didn't take long, even through his haze of pain and frustration, for him to sense that it was Erik.

"Charles, I..." the German, began as he opened the door, but stopped at once when he saw his friend propped up against the desk. "What are you doing?"

"I'm testing to see how comfortable my Persian rug is," Charles replied facetiously.

"And? What's the verdict?" Erik asked with a sigh, walking across to the desk.

"It's comfortable enough for sitting but when a persons falls on it, it doesn't really matter," the telepath shrugged.

"You fell?"

"A little, yes."

"...Hank said you shouldn't be trying to walk for at least another week."

"What Hank doesn't know won't hurt him," Charles replied quickly.

"You're not helping yourself, you know," Erik remarked, holding out his hand.

Charles said nothing as he took Erik's hand and was helped, gently, to his feet. Aided by the metal studs holding the red fabric to the old wood, Erik used his powers and pulled out the desk chair, then helped Charles to sit down.

"Ignoring the fact that you haven't listened to Hank, this means that his...cure...works, I assume?" Erik asked, glancing across the room where the wheelchair still sat beside Charles' bed.

"Yes."

"...That's good," Erik said while Charles sighed, "...Isn't it?" he asked at the telepath's despondent expression. "I mean...you couldn't even stand up three days ago and you just walked, didn't you?"

"From my bed to my desk," Charles shook his head, "It's hardly worth mentioning."

"Two years ago none of us even thought that would be possible, of course it's worth mentioning," Erik frowned, exasperatedly.

"It's been almost a month, Erik, and very little progress. I'm still resigned to the fact that this might not work with as much success as Hank is hoping for. I can't afford to get my hopes up too much."

"I won't lie...I thought if you did walk again that it would...ease my guilt," Erik admitted, "But it doesn't."

"I'm not doing this for you, my friend," Charles replied patiently.

"No, but it's because of me. It's my fault."

"We've been over this before. If I can forgive you, why can't you forgive yourself?" the telepath asked genuinely but Erik didn't answer. Realising his friend wasn't going to give a response, Charles took a breath, "Well...I think...I'm ready to try again," he said decisively, sitting up straight.

"And I think you should wait until Hank says you can try again," Erik countered.

"Stop babying me, Erik," the telepath rolled his eyes.

"Only if you start showing that you actually care about your welfare."

"Funny," Charles muttered dryly and he began to slowly push himself up onto his feet, leaning against the surface of the desk again.

"You're not going to listen to me or Hank, are you?"

"What gave it away?" the telepath asked sarcastically as he managed to stand up.

"...At least let me help you," Erik replied, taking Charles arm over his shoulder. "You won't be doing yourself any favours by overworking yourself and falling over again."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"...Alright then," Charles smiled a little.


	25. Early January, 1976

**Early January, 1976.**

* * *

When Erik heard loud noises and growls coming from the foyer, the last thing he was expecting to see was Hank was hanging upside down with his feet clutching the chandelier as he glared down over a man who only seemed to smile back at him. This man was dressed rather shabbily in faded blue jeans and a leather jacket over an open blue button up shirt and a vest top underneath.

As a school, the Xavier mansion housed many people, but it wasn't often that someone just turned up on their doorstep; they did need to keep a certain degree of privacy after all. This man had evidently done something to rattle Hank into using his full powers and that was no small feat.

"Who are you?" Erik asked aloud, raising an eyebrow at the man on the floor.

"I..." he began but he snapped his head around as one of the doors opened and Raven walked into the room. At first she was surprised to see this man standing there, but she'd gotten used to seeing strange things in her life, so she took it all in her stride and moved to stand beside Erik.

"Hank," Erik sighed, "Get off the chandelier."

"But he..." Hank frowned and, reluctantly, he did just that.

"Thank you," the man said sarcastically and got to his feet. "I apologise if I was a little forceful in entering but..."

"A little forceful?" Hank scoffed, ruffling his blue fur, "You kicked the door in on me."

"That's called property damage, you know," Raven crossed her arms.

"I didn't break it," the still nameless man shrugged, "But your guard wouldn't let me in."

"I'm a scientist," Hank frowned and the man gave an incredulous scoff.

"So, go on then, tell us who you are and why you kicked the door in," Erik said forcefully.

"Jaron Berkovich," the man said and rolled back his sleeve, holding up his arm to show the crude black numbers against his pale skin, "And this, I know, you understand."

"...Where?" Erik asked, glancing across at the familiarly placed markers and revealing his own.

"Bełżec," he answered, "And you?"

"Auschwitz."

"Hmm," Jaron nodded and righted his sleeve again. "A friend showed me your work from '54," he grinned, "Seventeen Nazi bastards all drowned in their own blood...Ja, it was beautiful."

"I assume you didn't come here to discuss dead Nazis."

"In part, yes. I came here to talk to you...and your professor. I've heard a lot about him too," he grinned, "A strong telepath they say. I should very much like to meet him before I go. Where is he?"

"None of your business," Hank said.

"Not here, eh?" Jaron inferred with a frown, "If he was he should know I was here by now, surely...oh, that is disappointing."

"You're a mutant?" Raven questioned, moving the subject away from her brother.

"I am," he nodded, "You want to know what it is I can do? I was shot at by twenty death squads in the same month...nothing," he shrugged. "I was burned alive in the crematorium. I was gassed in the showers and I was mauled by their most vicious dogs...and I am still here."

"You can't die?" Erik frowned.

"Better...I can't be killed and whatever happens to me I can project onto another person. So...they attack me; they kill themselves," he chuckled.

"Why are you here?" Erik asked him, clearly not amused.

"What?" Jaron stopped laughing, "You don't think it's funny?" he asked but he didn't get an answer so he continued. "Hmm...well then, I am here because of you, actually. I want you to do the only thing that people like us are good for; killing the bastards who made us."

"You want to recruit me?" Erik scoffed.

"Naturally...There are many people like us out there looking for vengeance and we should work together...Or have you forgotten what they did to us? They treated us worse than animals. They slaughtered us..."

"I can never forget," Erik ground out.

"Then join us, help us..."

"I'm sorry, but you're a few decades too late."

"They're still out there and everyone else has forgotten or they want to forget so they let them be. That's not good enough."

"No, it isn't," Erik agreed, "But I have a cause to fight for here. I've done more than my fair share of Nazi hunting."

"You are sure?" Jaron asked and Erik nodded. "...So...I came here expecting to find a warrior for our people and instead I find a coward," he spat.

"A coward," Erik repeated, enraged.

"A coward," Jaron nodded gravely, "Hiding away in a school."

"I think you should leave," Raven said, noting the furious glint in Erik's eyes and the balling of his hands into fists at his sides.

"I don't think so. This is a very nice place...I think I'd like to stay for a while."

"She told you to leave, now leave," Hank growled.

"Make me."

"My pleasure," Erik muttered and stormed over to him. He grabbed the front of Jaron's jacket and forced him back against the nearest wall. But the second that his back collided with the wall, Erik saw the wince on the mutants' face for only a second before his pain faded. Erik felt the pain that Jaron should have been feeling and it was then that he remembered just what this man's power was. It seemed that his ability extended to all pain that was inflicted on him, not just injuries bad enough to murder. This, Erik knew, would make things very, very difficult, if not impossible.

"You see now?" Jaron smiled.

"You still feel pain," Erik stated.

"Not for long."

"We'll see," the German hissed and preceded to punch him in the face with enough force to throw him to the floor. Blood seeped from Jaron's lip and he looked up but before he even wiped the blood off, the cut sealed itself and vanished completely, only to reappear on Erik's lip.

Erik's eyes widened as the pain from his own attack hit him. Jaron jumped to his feet and pushed Erik backward against the wall, just as he had done to him.

"Attack me all you like. You can't hurt me," Jaron said with confidence. "But I can hurt you," he added cruelly, "And if you're not with me...you're against me." He then hit Erik in the stomach and tossed him to the floor.

Hank barrelled across at Jaron and held him back from Erik, trying not cause the mutant any pain which he knew would only reflect back on him. Before he could even speak through, Erik was back on his feet and, using the metal in Jaron's clothes, he threw him across the room. Jaron landed hard on the floor and once again, all the impact was felt by Erik. He fell to his knees from the shock alone.

"Erik, stop," Raven cried, running over to him and placing a calming hand on his shoulder, "This won't achieve anything."

"It's the violence, he can't help it," Jaron laughed. "If nothing else I can show him who he really is," he said, turning to Erik. "You won't come with me, fine. But at least acknowledge that people like us can never be at peace; deep down you know it as well as I do. You are no teacher. You are a creature of war, just like me. We are what they made us into."

"I am whoever I say I am. They don't rule my life, not anymore," Erik ground out.

"Yes, they do, and you know why? Because you lie even to yourself."

"...Get out," the German shook his head in disgust.

"You know I'm telling the truth...you wouldn't be so angry with me if you didn't. You don't want to hear it because you can't deny..."

"I said, get out," Erik reiterated.

"You know, I could stay here an there's nothing you could do about it," Jaron replied smugly. "But since you're not going to help me, there wouldn't be much point," he shrugged. "I've no doubt I'll see you again someday...Maybe then you'll change your mind."

"I wouldn't count on it," Erik replied coldly.

"Hmm...we'll see," the mutant said before walking out the door.

"Good riddance," Raven muttered, rushing to close and lock the door behind him.

"No one tells Charles about this," Erik said sternly before they could say anything else.

"You really should know by now that you can't keep secrets from a telepath," Hank replied.

"...Right," Erik sighed dejectedly and scrubbed a hand through his hair before he walked off, his muscles sore, leaving Hank and Raven staring after him.

* * *

A few days later when Charles returned it wasn't long before he found himself walking through the doors to Erik's study and seated himself before the fire, opposite his friend.

"I hear you had a visitor while I was away," Charles remarked as Erik stood and poured two drinks for them.

"Yes, he wasn't very polite," Erik shrugged, "I sent him on his way."

"Hmm," the telepath hummed, "His ability was interesting, to say the least."

"It was...more infuriating than interesting."

"Hank was right, you know...it really is difficult to hide things from people like me, and not always because I want it to be that way."

"I know."

"It's been on your mind since it happened...I can't block you out when you're this pensive."

"I've done terrible things...but you know as well as I do that I don't regret half of them. The people...the Nazis I killed would never have received the punishments they deserved in a court of law. The things they did weren't done within the law. Sometimes it isn't sufficient."

"You've moved on since then, he hasn't," Charles said.

"Have I?" Erik scoffed. "...I was...part of me wanted to go with him...I wanted..."

"But you didn't."

"Charles," Erik began, lowering his head. "I am everything he said I am. Maybe I was wrong..."

"You weren't wrong. What they did to you was unforgivable but you are your own person. You proved that when you came back and you proved it again by making your own choice."

"...Why do you always know what to say?" Erik asked after a minute.

"Because I know you," Charles replied.

"And you still want to," the German shook his head, incredulously. His hand subconsciously made its way to cover the tattooed numbers under his sleeve on his other arm and his fingers tightened around his skin. "He was right about something else though," he said slowly, "He'll probably come back."

"Maybe," Charles shrugged elegantly, "But not for a while. He's on a mission of vengeance, remember. Those things take time."

"Yeah," Erik murmured, "They do."

* * *

A.N. Just in case anyone is interested, Jaron is an OC.


	26. June 2023 & March, 1973

A.N. Contains some spoilers for Days of Future Past - basically a rewrite but I changed quite a lot to fit my AU, so don't complain that things aren't the same because that's kind of the point :)

* * *

**March, 2023.**

* * *

In the darkened monastery, Charles Xavier, aged 90 sat beside his long time friend, Erik Lehnsherr and a group of the remaining mutants; some were his oldest friends like Raven who still looked less than half her age. With younger students like Kitty and Bobby standing beside Storm and Logan and others as well.

"You can send people backwards in time?" Logan repeated incredulously, staring down at Kitty.

"Yeah, but...I've never sent anyone back decades," Kitty shook her head, "And certainly no one as powerful as you, professor," she said, glancing at Charles.

"We don't have any other choice," Charles said.

"You have the most powerful mind in the world but I don't know if you could survive being sent back that far; most people have a hard enough time with a few weeks. Your body would be destroyed from the pressure before you even got to the seventies and your mind would snap..."

"Well, what if you sent someone who could heal just as quickly as they're destroyed?" Logan suggested.

"I...suppose that would work but...there's one other thing," she sighed. "When I send people back they have to live everything over again. I don't just send your mind back, I send you, as a person back."

"But you remember everything...all of this?"

"Yes," she nodded, "You...merge with your...past self but you keep all of your memories...But it's a one way ticket. You'd be the only one who remembers everything," she told Logan. "Everyone else will only remember whatever you've changed. You'll be completely on your own..."

"No, I won't," Logan replied, turning to the professor. "I can just show you everything that's happened, can't I?"

"You could," Charles agreed. "But things were somewhat different in 1973. Erik, Hank and Darwin returned from Vietnam and I was rather..."

"Tense?" Erik gave a small smile.

"To say the least," Charles continued. "Emma Frost was our main concern, aside from Trask of course. You may have to be a little patient with us."

"Patience isn't really my strong point," Logan replied.

"Well, you'll have to learn fast," Erik said to him.

"Great," Logan sighed, "So, I'll wake up god knows where in 1973 and then what?"

"Go to the manor," Charles answered, "And tell me everything. Get us to stop her before it's too late..." As he was speaking, a loud, ominous roaring and banging grew closer heralding the approach of the Sentinels that had all but butchered the mutant race.

"What'll you do while I'm..."

"It doesn't matter," the telepath shook his head, "As long as you change the past."

"We don't have much time," Storm said calmly and Kitty nodded.

"You'll have to be quick," she said, resignedly, "I won't be able to hold it for long."

"It?" Logan questioned as the young woman closed her eyes.

A bright blue and white light shone in front of her and it grew larger and brighter as the seconds passed, quickly becoming a spiralling gateway, large enough for several people to walk through, side by side. "...Oh...it," he frowned.

"Go on," Kitty said to him in a strained voice.

"Good luck, Logan," Charles smiled.

Logan only nodded once, knowing that it would be the last time he'd see these 'versions' of people he'd come to view as friends forever. The people he'd meet in the past would be different, but it wasn't like he had a choice.

This was no future worth living in.

* * *

**March, 1973.**

* * *

When Logan opened his eyes he awoke in a bed beside a beautiful woman. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem but he had no idea where he was or who the woman was and he was a man on a mission. After an interlude with a group of very angry and now dead, gangsters who were none to pleased that he, apparently, had slept with the girl beside him, Logan took their car and was soon speeding down the quiet roads of 1973. It took him a while to reach the manor that he knew so well and along the way he couldn't help but remember all that had happened to lead him here.

It had been the year 2000 when he'd first really met Charles Xavier after he'd found the young Rogue and they'd been attacked by a mutant called Sabretooth who worked for Emma Frost; the Ice Queen of mutant kind. Everyone knew of her and her 'army' of loyal followers. Since that time, Logan had been on a journey to find out just what had been done to him and he'd been through a lot with Charles, Erik and the X-Men. They'd watched Emma Frost turn anti mutant senator into a mutant using the biological technology of an incredible scientist that had joined her cause. They'd watched Jean die only to be reborn as Phoenix and seen her kill Charles in her rage and confusion, only for him to return as well.

And of course, the worst of them all, they'd watched the war against mutants escalate in all it's bloody savagery as the Sentinels had been released. Mutants all over the world had been confident that they would win but it hasn't taken long before they realised that they had been wrong. They couldn't have been more wrong. The Sentinels were robots with a single purpose; to wipe out mutant kind. And they had almost succeeded. Logan had no way of knowing just what happened to his friends in the future after he'd left but as long as he could change the past and stop the war before it started, then it wouldn't matter. That future would never exist...hopefully.

He drove for hours and hours and when he finally reached the Westchester mansion he parked the car right by the front door and knocked. He wasn't kept waiting long.

"Who are you?" he asked when a man answered the door.

"I'm Hank, Hank McCoy."

"You're Beast?" Logan furrowed his brow. This slim, ordinary looking young man wasn't what he'd been expecting to find; he knew Beast, or least he would know Beast in the future.

"...What do you want?" Hank asked.

"I need to talk to the professor."

"Are you a parent?"

"I sure as hell hope not," Logan snorted.

"Then who are you?"

"No one...yet. But this is important, let me speak to him."

"_Hank_..." Charles' voice spoke in Hank's mind, "_Let him in. He won't harm me_."

Hank sighed and reluctantly stood aside to allow Logan into the building, "Come in," he said.

"Thank you," Logan replied tersely as he stepped inside, "You won't believe me now, kid but you and I are gonna be good friends...you just don't know it yet," he said smugly.

"Do I...know you?" Charles asked, standing in front of him.

"Not yet...but I know you," Logan said.

"You're a mutant but..." the telepath breathed, "You're...different, something about your mind..."

"Yeah, about that..."

"Who is this?" Erik demanded as he breezed into the foyer.

"I don't know," Hank answered.

"No, but I know who you are," Logan replied, "You're Beast, you're Erik Lenhsherr, Magneto and Charles Xavier...Professor X," he smiled sardonically. "I know you. I know you're powers came when you were nine and you thought you were going crazy with all the voices in your head. But it wasn't until you were twelve that you realised that all the voices were in everyone else's head..."

"I don't recall ever telling you that..." Charles frowned.

"You haven't...not yet," Logan said, "Look...this is complicated...I'm from the future...50 years into the future and you sent me back to..."

"I sent you back?"

"Have I seen you somewhere before?" Erik asked suddenly, "It doesn't matter, I mean, you're obviously crazy but I do..."

"Now that you mention it," Charles nodded, "You do look...oh...I remember," he said slowly. "We came to you ten years ago...do you remember what you said then?"

"Yeah, I do, but this is important," Logan stressed, "I'm telling the truth. If you just...look inside my head..."

"Don't, Charles," Erik frowned quickly, "How do we know this isn't some kind of trick?"

"He can read my mind, if I was lying Charles would know," Logan replied.

"There's...strange things...in your mind," Charles breathed, skimming the surface of Logan's thoughts. "You're not supposed to be here."

"No, I'm not. Actually, it was supposed to be you," Logan said, "But I was the only one who could physically make the trip...and I can't go back. Whatever happens...I'm stuck here...You know, a long time, a really long time from now...you taught me a lot. I was your most helpless student. You unlocked my mind, you showed me who I was, who I could be. Just...look inside my head, read my mind and you'll understand...please."

Charles placed his index and middle fingers of his right hand against Logan's temple and concentrated.

"Charles," Erik protested, moving forwards but Hank placed a hand on his shoulder to hop him.

The telepath's breathing was already increasing and very quickly he began to shake. He saw and felt everything that Logan had when he'd been tormented and experimented on by William Stryker Jr in the future. He felt every time Logan had died and healed himself in a matter of seconds. He saw Jean and how Logan had been forced to kill the woman he loved to save her from her self.

"You poor...poor man," Charles breathed, stepping back as tears fell from his eyes.

"Look past me..."

"No, I don't want to..." the telepath shook his head widely. His mind spinning from everything he'd just felt. "I don't want your suffering...I don't want that future..."

"Look past me," Logan said quickly, taking Charles' hand and placing it back against his temple. "You have to see everything. Look for the war."

A minute later, Charles stepped back again and calmed his breathing."He's telling the truth," he said, taking a deep breath. "This is no trick," he told Erik with a seriousness even he couldn't deny.

* * *

After seeing the seriousness that had overtaken Charles, Erik and Hank gathered in the main sitting room with Raven, Alex, Sean, Peter and Darwin as Logan told them just how the war had started.

"Emma Frost," he said, "She'll kill Trask..."

"I don't blame her," Erik scoffed, "He deserves it. In fact, I'll help her."

"You idiot," Logan sneered. "Haven't you been listening? She'll kill Trask and there'll be a dozen more of him. The government will use his plans to wipe us all out. They identified the mutant gene and killed people who'd eventfully go on to have mutant children. They killed almost all of us, including the humans who tried to help us. I've been in a lot of wars...I've never seen anything like this."

"All because of one dead man?"

"Yes. There'll be a peace conference in Paris on January 27th, she'll kill Trask in view of the whole world and be captured by a man called Stryker and they'll use her to control mutants around the world. Then, her people will kill the President and war will be declared against all of us. They'll all be rounded up and their DNA will be used to make the Sentinels stronger...And everyone will die."

"But what can we do?" Sean asked.

"Stop her before she kills Trask. If we prove to the world that we're not a threat then we can stop the war before it starts," Logan said.

"This can't all be real," Erik shook his head.

"It is, Erik," Charles told him. "If you don't believe him, believe me. There's no way he could possibly have created all those memories to deceive me...You must think me so foolish," he murmured, "You always said they'd come after us."

"I never have imagined that they'd be able to capture Emma and use her against us," Erik said.

"If only I'd listened..." the telepath lamented, burying his head in his hands.

"Charles," Logan began, "Not all of humanity works against us. They're not all bad..."

"After everything you've seen you still believe there's hope?" Charles asked. "No, Logan," he murmured, "Erik is right, if humanity does what I saw..."

"...A good friend once told me that just because someone stumbles and looses their way it doesn't meant they're lost forever. Sometimes we all need a little help," Logan said. "You told me that bearing other people's pain without breaking makes you stronger, that the most human power is hope. You can't give up, not now. We have to stop this, otherwise, a lot of good people died for nothing. I won't stand by and let them die when we can stop it from ever happening. You saw everything I did. Do you want to watch them all die?!"

"...No...no I don't..."

"You can't be considering this, Charles," Erik turned to him.

"What choice do we have?" Charles murmured and raised his head. "We have to try and stop her," he said.

"...You're serious?"

"I am," he nodded, "Dust off the plane, Hank," Charles said, "We're going to Paris."

"Great," Erik threw up his arms and rolled his eyes.

* * *

Hours later as the plane soared through the air, Charles, Erik, Logan, Azazel, Raven, Alex, Sean, Peter and Darwin sat in a tense atmosphere as Hank steered them towards the continent.

"Why are you bringing that?" Logan asked Erik who was sitting with his metal helmet on his head.

"She's a telepath," Erik answered, "We may need all the help we can get. If this is as serious as you claim I aim to be prepared."

"It is serious."

"I'm only here because Charles vouched for you," the German stated.

"I know."

* * *

"I'll keep this brief," Trask said as he stood at the head of a large meeting table in a Parisian meeting room. All eyes focused on him as he continued, "There is a new enemy out there. One that will render your arsenals useless, your armies powerless and your nations defenceless. You'll need a new weapon for this war. I call them Sentinels. They have the aeronautic capabilities of a jet, armed with guns that can fire over 2,000 rounds per minute.

But, what makes the Sentinels so special, is the ability to target the mutant gene from half a mile away. With this tracking system there will be no human collateral damage," he said, holding up the white device in his hand. "If I turn it on it couldn't even activate in here," Trask said confidently as he turned on the device but he was genuinely confused when it began to beep. "...Unless, there's a mutant."

The men around the table murmured in concern as Trask scanned the room and watched as the red lights lit up indicating that the signal was strongest when it was pointed at one of the men sitting at the table.

"There must be some mistake," the man said, confused.

"My machines don't make mistakes," Trask replied calmly as the other men around the room stared at him, "What are you?"

"I assure you...I..." the man stood nervously and the yards drew their guns.

"No, don't shoot him," Trask ordered them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man said as he was restrained.

But it was clear that they weren't going to change their minds so he grinned coldly and his form began to shimmer and flicker away revealing Emma Frost. Using her telepathy she'd convinced everyone in the room that she had been one of the Generals, but now the game was up.

"Hello, boys," she smiled and using their surprise, she moved quickly to escape their hold.

Using her abilities it was simple for her to have the guards shoot each other and the ones that were near her, she twisted their arms and kicked them across the table in a rare display of physical agility that they were clearly not expecting.

When each of them had been dispensed with, she drew one of their guns and stood directly over Trask, smiling at him. "Mr. Trask," she said, "...Goodbye."

"Emma!" Charles cried as they ran into the room.

Before she could do anything, one of the guards had got to his feet and used a taser which knocked her to the ground, twitching and hissing in pain. Erik waved a hand and flicked the weapon back onto the guard who fell down just as Emma had.

Logan caught sight of the man, William Stryker Jr who, one day would use him as an experiment which would cause him so much pain. The man was young now and vulnerable as the taser continued to make his body quake in pain.

"You," Emma murmured as Charles knelt beside her, "What are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from making the worst mistake of all our lives," Charles answered.

"You fools," she hissed and pushed herself to his knees, "He's the enemy," she pointed to Trask.

Erik, acting quickly, retrieved one of the guns, using his powers it floated into his hand and he pointed it at Emma.

"What are you doing?" Charles frowned.

"Securing our future," he answered, "Forgive me, Emma, as long as you're out there we'll never be safe," Erik said, his hand steady.

Charles breathed quickly, knowing that neither he nor Emma could stop Erik whilst he was wearing the helmet. He was kneeling directly in front of her with his hand outstretched and his eyes pleading Erik not to fire.

"Erik, don't," he said.

"Move or don't, Charles, we both know it makes no difference," Erik replied.

Hank suddenly tackled Erik, knocking the gun from his hand but he was able to fire the weapon as Emma turned and ran across the room, heading for the window. She leapt out of it, shattering the glass and the bullet chased after her, down through the window, catching her in the leg the second before she hit the ground.

In the chaos, Trask made his escape out the door silently and Erik threw Hank off him. He then stormed across the the broken window, taking the gun with him.

Outside, the cameras of the world's press and the public were fixed on Emma as she mentally called her followers to come to her aid. Instantly she was joined by a young Sabretooth who pushed his way through the crowd to stand in front of her and another young man who released a barrage of spikes from his skin to stick out, almost like a porcupine as he stood at her side.

Erik floated down out of the window and joined them on the street with eyes cold as steel. He held out his hand and using the bullet in Emma's leg he pulled her towards him across the hard ground. At the same time he used some of the metal barriers to restrain both of her compatriots. He pulled the bullet out of her leg and let it hover above his outstretched palm as she stared up at him in a mix of pain and shock.

"Erik," she breathed, "Don't...don't..."

"Goodbye, Emma," he said simply but before he could act Quicksilver ran at him, tacking him to the ground.

The crowd gasped at the sight of his speed which he used to thwart any attempt that Erik made to move or shoot. Soon, he was joined by Hank and Azazel, whose physical mutations made people flee as Hank began to fight and snarl at Erik.

"What the hell are you thinking?!" Hank growled.

"What are you thinking?!" Erik yelled back.

All of the cars and the barriers and everything made of metal began to move towards Erik in his anger and as people screamed and fled in terror, Emma and her followers began to make their escape.

The street began to clear and armed armed men moved closer to him, he simply waved a hand and they were flung backwards, like helpless rag dolls. Erik hadn't even looked at them. Before he could act again though, everyone froze where they stood. People fleeing were made into human statues and Charles walked out of the building and onto the street.

"Charles," Erik breathed.

"Why did you do that, Erik?" Charles sighed, "Now we're the enemy."

"You can just make them forget..."

"I can't, Erik," the telepath yelled, "Look around you! They have cameras! Azazel, get us out of here!"

* * *

President Nixon watched with a concerned gaze as the mornings' news relayed the footage of the attack at the Peace Conference.

"What the hell are these...people...off the record?" he asked.

"We...don't know..." one of the men answered.

"Yes, yes we do," Trask stood, "They're mutants...He," Trask said, pointing at Erik on the screen, "Has the ability to control metal - last I checked that's what most of your weapons are made of. And she," he continued, pointing at Emma, "Can control people, make them think that she's a difference person or make them shoot each other. She could walk into this room and order a nuclear strike if she was in the mood. And that's only two of them," he finished.

"Well, do we have any counter measures? Any defence?" the President demanded, incredulously.

"I was waiting for you to ask me that question," Trask replied, placing a folder on the desk.

"That's an experimental program, sir, strictly off the books," one of the men pointed out before Nixon took the file.

"You're telling me, these...mutants...are out in the world, and out best defence are these giant metal robots?" the President questioned as he flicked through the pages.

"Many of the mutants look like us," Trask said, "My Sentinels can tell the difference. I have eight prototypes ready to go. There's not a trace of metal in them."

"I want to make a demonstration. I want the world to know that we can protect them," Nixon said firmly, looking at his men. "What do you need to get these things operational?" he asked Trask.

"I already gave that number to Congress and unfortunately they elected to shut me down. It's going to cost a bit more to turn them back on."

"Whatever you need," Nixon replied.

"Oh, and one more thing, if we do manage to capture them," he turned to the screens, "I want all of them...for research purposes," Trask said.

* * *

As Charles and the others finally returned to the manor after a tense and almost completely silent plane ride, during which, the telepath and Erik had sat at opposite ends of the plane, they walked through the dark foyer and into the main sitting room. But as they entered the room, Charles fell back against the wall with a cry of pain.

"What's wrong with him? Why can't he walk?" Logan asked, rushing to Charles' side.

"He needs his treatment," Hank answered, helping the telepath to sit on one of the sofas.

"We don't have time," Charles shook his head, "It can wait. We have to find Emma...before it's too late."

Hank nodded and ran off, returning a minute later with Charles' wheelchair and they all made their way to the underground bunker.

Over the years, said bunker had become an underground network, the walls lined with shining metal and the door that Logan knew so well scanned Charles eyes and greeted him as it opened. The room and Cerebro were much more simplified than Logan remembered but in essentials it was the same. Charles put on the headpiece as the atmosphere around them exploded.

"Emma, stop," Charles spoke through the woman sitting beside Emma in the airport.

"Xavier," she sighed, "Why are you following me?"

"You need to stop this..."

"I know what I need to do," she replied coldly and walked away, "And neither you nor Erik or any of your pets can stop me."

"If you kill Trask more people will take his place," a man said as she walked past him.

"You'll start a war that will wipe us all out," a woman added as she moved quickly.

Charles sent flashes of the future war he'd seen in Logan's mind to her own and she stumbled backwards in shock.

"Look at what happens if you do this," another man said as Emma bumped into him, "Look at all the lives that are destroyed. All the mutants that suffer."

"I don't want a war. I've seen too many friends die," Emma replied, "I only want the man who murdered them, gone."

"Just stop her yourself and make her come here," Erik said to Charles.

"I can't, she's a telepath, she has defences of her own," Charles replied before he took a deep breath and projected himself into the airport before Emma. "I know what Trask has done. But killing him will not bring them back," he said to her sadly. "You saw what happens. I know that you don't want our kind to be destroyed. You must stop this now."

"...Don't you dare tell me what to do," she spat, "You're all cowards. I will do what must be done," she added and walked right through his projection, making it disappear.

Back at the manor, Charles sighed heavily and removed the headpiece.

"Where is she?" Logan asked.

"She's at an airport, boarding a plane."

"A plane to where?" Erik asked.

"...Washington, DC," Charles remembered seeing the ticket when Emma had bumped into a man he'd been speaking through.

"There's something I need to show you," Hank said suddenly and lead them from out of the underground levels. He took them to a small, cramped room filled with computers and screens

"This is a system I designed to record any news about Paris over all three networks and PBS," he said, sitting down.

"Wow, all three," Logan said sarcastically.

"And PBS," Hank pointed out, "Well...look what I found," he said, flicking a switch and bringing up a news report appeared on the larger screen with a man standing before the White House.

"Tomorrow, the President will make his announcement. He'll be joined by the Secretary of Defence and has even sought the help of renounced scientist Bolivar Trask, his special advisor to combat this mutant issue. The White House has asked..." Hank switched the recoding off and turned round in his chair to face the others again.

"Emma doesn't realise that if she kills Trask at an event like that with the whole world watching..." Charles breathed.

"And I came a long way for nothing," Logan sighed.

"There more bad news I found in a report," Hank said, "They found traces of blood in Paris. I don't know what they plan on doing with it but they could already be studying her mutant DNA."

"And making the Sentinels of the future," Logan said.

"What if we can't change the future? What if, no matter how hard we try, it always corrects itself? That the war is meant to happen and we can't change it?" the scientist shook his head.

"...No..." Charles murmured. "No...not what I saw...I can't believe that...I won't."

"But there's nothing we can do, everything is already..." Erik began.

"Ready the plane," Charles said to Hank, "We're going to Washington."

* * *

Before they boarded the plane, Charles took Azazel aside, "I have something I need you to do, my friend," he said.

"What is it?" Azazel asked.

"I need you to find me undeniable proof of what Trask has done. I may need to be able to prove that mutants have suffered because of human fear."

"Where am I to find this proof?" he asked.

"There's only one place I can think of..." Charles began.

* * *

They soon found themselves in Washington easily passing through the security thanks to Charles' ability. As they took their place amongst the bustling crowds Charles began sifting through the minds of the people around them, hearing their busy thoughts.

"I haven't found her yet but she has to be here," he said.

"...Where's Erik?" Raven asked after a moment and Charles' eyes snapped open.

"The President of the United Stated," a man announced before they could look for their friend and everyone began cheering and the national anthem blared out.

"My fellow Americans," Nixon began, taking centre stage, "Today we face the greatest threat in our history; mutants. We have prepared for this threat. Behold," he declared and waved his arm at the flag hanging behind him, "The world will never be the same again," he said.

The flag dropped, revealing eight gargantuan, sleek robots, each one as tall as five people and polished to perfection in shining silver. Soldiers began saluting and people stood in reverence of these 'savours' as they applauded.

"_This is for you, brothers and sisters_," Charles heard Emma think as she pulled out a gun.

"_Emma_," he said to her mind, using all his strength to bypass her defences and freeze her where she stood. "I have her," he spoke aloud.

"Let me go, Xavier," she ground out as he pointed across the crowd to show his friends where she was.

As they rushed over to her the robots suddenly began to float into the air without warning and Charles tried desperately to talk to Emma.

"_We've been given a second chance to define who we are, I can't let you destroy it_," he said, struggling to maintain control.

From high above, Erik controlled the Sentinels and made them take aim at the people below. Without warning, they opened fired and in the chaos, Charles was thrown out of Emma's mind and she was free.

There was complete and utter chaos as people fled in terror and the President and Trask were escorted away from the stage and into the White House down through a secure room, deep underground. Wile outside, under the heavy fire of the Sentinels, cars were hit making them explode as people floundered and jumped to avoid both bullets and fire.

"**ERIK**!" Charles bellowed at the top of his lungs. He couldn't sense his friend's mind anywhere so he must be wearing the helmet which meant he had no way of stopping him.

While Emma was able to follow the Presidents' entourage into the underground safe room, it wasn't long before everyone else saw just where Erik was. Charles swallowed in apprehension as Erik, his best friend, Erik, floated above them all with his arms outstretched and his old cape flowing behind him in the wind. The Sentinels stopped their attack and they flew up to him, forming a line in front of him. He landed before the grand building and moved his hand from right to left, searching for the people hiding inside.

Hank leapt atop the Sentinel hoping to stop it and he punched the back of its head, pulling out its electronics but it quickly reached for him and threw him off. Logan and the others worked on trying to stop the otters but they were having a difficult time of it.

They were horrified when Erik, using metal from anywhere he could find, even nearby building which he picked up and dropped around the White House to form a barrier, stopping the police trying to get in.

* * *

Inside the bunker, Emma was reaching for her gun but she was seen and in a matter of milliseconds, she was being restrained. As she went to control their minds though, everything that was metal suddenly flew up and stuck the the roof and everything began to shake. The bunker was moving.

It was thrown out of the White House, smashing through the building crushing the stage and the chairs as it landed on the front lawn right in front of Erik's feet. He easily ripped the metal door off its hinges in one single, swift movement. As the people inside the now ruined and useless bunker began to stand up, their guns floated away from them and hovered above Erik's head, pointed down at them.

Erik turned and waved his hands so that the cameras were directed at him and he spun back to face the people who started back at him in fear and awe. He was too busy to notice that the carnage he'd wrought had buried Charles and the others and they were now struggling to break free.

"You built these weapons to destroy us," Erik said, "Why? Because you are afraid of our gifts. Because we are different and you fear that which is different. My mutant brothers and sisters...I tell you this; no more hiding, no more suffering. You have lived in the shadows and shame for too long. What I do here is for you all," he said and glared across at the President. "I offer you a choice. I could kill you all, easily and you couldn't stop me. Look around you. I am in control here, not you. You can have peace," he said, "Or you can be destroyed."

"What kind of peace?" Trask scoffed, standing up, "The human race will only be at peace once you people are gone."

"Mr. Trask," one of the Presidents' men muttered, not looking away from the guns pointed at them.

"So be it," Erik replied, raising his head. "Today, I give the world a glimpse of the devastation that my race can unleash upon yours...Today, I show the world just what we can do," Erik said grimly.

"Stand down, I said stand down!" President Nixon yelled as he stepped forwards, shrugging of the man trying to stop him.

"Last words, Mr. President?"

"You want to make a statement?" he said, "Fine, kill me, but spare everyone else."

"Very heroic," Erik sneered and took slow steps forwards, the guns following him. "But you had no intention in sparing any of us. This sad duty of paving the way for my kind falls to me. The future of mutant kind...starts now," he said and the guns clicked, ready to fire.

Erik, too busy staring down the President, was far too busy to notice Emma hiding behind the men in the enclosed metal room. She knew she couldn't fool Erik while he was wearing his helmet but she slowly pulled a plastic gun from her pocket which she'd brought just in case she'd need it and stepped slowly to get in a shot.

She took it a fraction of a second before Erik saw her and the bullet grazed his neck deep enough to draw blood and knock him off his feet and she kicked him, forcefully in the head, knocking him unconscious. As she moved, the guns that Erik was controlling fell to the ground. The Sentinels powered down and lowered their arms as the lights in their eyes went out.

"You always did talk too much," she shook her head and picked up two of the guns that had fallen. She then took aim at Trask and the President. "Goodbye, Mr. President and good riddance Mr. Trask," she grinned.

Before she could shoot, she herself was shot and she looked down in pure shock. Some of the armed response that had arrived had made it through the wreckage and now that Erik was not controlling their weapons they were able to fire. One of them shot Emma through the torso several times and another shot her in the leg and another in her arm. She gasped out and dropped to the floor, the guns falling from her hand.

"Not...yet..." she ground out, "I'm not going to hell alone," she hissed and pulled out a remote control from her pocket. "You...r...really need better security," she said to Trask as she spat out blood. After pressing a button her head fell to the ground and her eyes closed. She stopped breathing shortly after.

At the same time, Charles, Hank and Logan had finally gotten free of the rubble and were limping as fast as they could towards the centre of the chaos. As they came only a few metres away from the bleeding Emma and Erik was brining to regain consciousness they heard the Sentinels whirring back to life. All of them stalked across and planted their feet in the ground as they stood tall around them when the lights in their eyes began to blink and beep.

The one closest to the President and his men suddenly exploded, unleashing fire and deadly debris heading straight for them and for Erik who was still wearing his helmet.

"ERIK!" Charles yelled, leaning heavily with one arm slung across Hank's shoulders.

Erik winced as he stood up and held out his arms as he ran to stand in front of the President. Of course, as Trask had boasted, there were materials that were not metal inside the Sentinels and as it exploded, Erik had a difficult, almost impossible time of deflecting all of the jagged and pointed pieces of exploding debris that came flying towards him. He used all of his concentration to doge and toss aside everything he could and he could hear the people behind him screaming and hiding.

It seemed to take forever and why exactly he was protecting the people he'd been about to kill was beyond Erik at the moment, but finally the debris stopped flying towards him and the smoke began to clear. It was then that he noticed that something was very wrong.

Erik gasped and looked down to see a large piece of non-metallic debris lodged in his chest. With a look of stunned disbelief he fell to the ground and grimaced and hissed as he tried to hold a hand against the free flowing blood.

"Erik!" Charles breathed, running forwards without aid and he fell to his knees beside his friend. "Erik, Erik...look at me..." he begged, as he used his powers and controlled a man who went and turned off all of the cameras around them.

"C..Charles..."

"You're such a..." Charles cried, "What were you doing...I thought you were..." he said, quickly seeing the images in the mens' minds of what Erik had been about to do before Emma had made her own claim to attempted murder.

"I was going to..." Erik admitted. "The...the war's already...s...started, Charles...I...I just...thought...I'd try it...your way...just once...W...we're already...the enemy..."

"No..." the telepath said as tears fell from his eyes. He watched Erik use whatever strength he had left and pulled the piece of debris from his chest with a loud cry.

Meanwhile, the President and his men stood in stunned silence as the man they thought would kill them now lay, possibly dying from saving them from another mutants attack.

"He just...saved us," Nixon stated.

"He was going to kill us," William Stryker Jr, Trask's bodyguard said.

"But he didn't."

"Verdammt, Charles...what have you done to me?! Why can't I just..." Erik stammered to Charles. "I should have just..."

"No, you shouldn't. You must know that," Charles said as he tried valiantly to stop the bleeding.

"...It's already...it's...it's all over..."

"Look at them, Erik" Charles breathed and looked up at the President, "They're alive because of you."

"...A...after I...was about to...to kill them..."

"We all make mistakes...you were doing what you thought was best."

"Still don't hate me?" Erik gasped.

"Never," Charles tried to smile. "Now, come on...we have to get you back...you need..."

"...Don't think...you can...save me this time..." Erik scoffed painfully.

"Mr. President, what should we do?" one of the men asked Nixon, "Should we arrest them?"

"Mr. President?" another questioned when he didn't respond.

Alex, Sean, Darwin, Azazel, Peter and Raven finally made their way through the rubble and stood beside Hank watching Charles cradle his friend in his arms, covered in blood.

"There's more of them!" Stryker Jr hissed when he saw Raven's blue skin and he ran forwards to pick up one of the guns.

"Stand down!" Nixon ordered him suddenly.

"Mr. Pr..."

"I said stand down!"

The young man looked to Trask for orders and the man covertly nodded, so he lowered his gun reluctantly.

"Thank you," Charles said, looking up at the President.

"How many of you..."

"Far more than you could possibly imagine," the telepath divulged and suddenly he began speaking in Nixon's mind. "_Don't be afraid_," he said but the President did, despite Charles' calm voice echoing in his head. "_You've seen what happens in war...is this what you want for the whole planet_?" he asked, showing flashes of what he'd seen of the future.

"What...what is..." Nixon furrowed his brow and circled, as though looking for the voices crying out in agony. His men watched the same thing he did as Charles showed them as well.

"_The future_," Charles told them, "_I believe we can live in peace but I need your help_."

"Why should I listen to you?" Nixon demanded, his hands visibly shaking from hearing a man speak in his head.

"Look where planning for war has brought us," the telepath answered aloud this time. "Is this what you want, more of this?"

"I..."

"My friend will die if I don't help him. Let me take him home..."

"Mr. President, don't let them escape!"

"You can't let them go!" the men cried, indignantly.

"Erik," Charles vocalised to his friend, "Let me fix this...I need your help."

Erik nodded shakily and Charles took of his helmet. He at once felt the telepath's calming presence in his mind. "_Are you strong enough for this_?" Charles asked him.

"_Let's find out_," Erik thought back.

"I suggest you get out of that bunker," Charles said aloud, "Quickly," he added, raising his hand. They did as he said and Charles closed his eyes, moving his hand across the air.

Through Erik, he fixed the bunker and returned it from whence it had come without causing more damage to the building. He piled up all of the rubble and debris, freeing men who were trapped and righting cars that had been thrown over. He lined the seven remaining Sentinels back behind the stage and then disassembled them into their small, component parts before shattering the metal, thus destroying them without causing any damage to the people standing around watching.

"Thank you, Erik," Charles said as Erik continued to breath painfully. "Mutants are here to stay, Mr. President," Charles declared, looking up at him, "But there's something you need to know," he said. "Azazel," he called and the red skinned mutant stepped forwards and took out several paper files from his black jacket. He threw it at Nixon's feet and stood back.

"These files were taken from Mr. Trask's private office," Charles said.

"How did you get these?" the President asked.

"We have our ways."

"I've...I've never seen this information," Nixon said as he flicked through the files.

"You're not the only people who believe a war is coming. You'll see from those files that, already there've been casualties," Charles said, referring to the mutants that Trask had experimented on. "We should work together for a better future."

"You...had a plan...all along..." Erik smiled ruefully, "S...should've known...should've said..."

"You ran off before I could," Charles said to his mind, "You and that bloody helmet give me more grief than the children," he added and Erik tried to laugh but it needed in a series of violent coughs during which, he was spitting up blood.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" Nixon asked Charles.

"You've seen what we can do," Charles answered, "Why would we need to trick you? Those cameras showed the world both the good and the bad that we can do...what happens next is up to you...Azazel," Charles called again.

Azazel nodded and teleported the others away first, then returned in a split second to stand beside Charles and Erik. He placed a hand on the telepath's shoulder and then they were gone.

* * *

**EPILOGUE.**

* * *

"...The Sentinels of the anti-mutant program were destroyed and the project shut down by President Nixon. Public opinion remains divided on whether mutants are friend or foe," he added and the images of Erik first threatening the President and then saving him, played once again for the country to see. "And after witnessing division among mutants the President had this to say..." the news reporter said.

"...While we cannot say for certain that these mutants are without threat, we can say that they are as diverse and as conflicted as we are as human beings..." the brief clip of the President said and then the reporter returned.

"In other news, the creator of the Sentinel program and world renowned scientist, Bolivar Trask was arrested and charged with selling military secrets to the USSR..."

Charles flicked off the television and stood from his chair, walking from his study to the rooms that had long since been designated as their own in built hospital.

It was just under a month since the scene at the White House and Erik still hadn't woken. The damage done by the debris that pierced his chest had been extensive and it was a miracle that he was still breathing. Charles spent hours by his friends' bedside every day, linking his mind to Erik's and providing some hope and relief.

While things were looking up for mutants, things were far from perfect. There were some people who hosted violent protests against any kind of co-existence and Charles did what he could to reassure the mutants across the world.

"How is he?" Charles asked as he always did as he entered the room.

"...Still with us," Hank answered and left silently as was his habit.

Many of the people in the manor were set against Erik and his actions at the White House and it had, once again, driven a wedge between the German and everyone else.

Said German was lying asleep in one of the beds and the heart monitor reassured Charles that his friends' heart beat was steady and stable. There had been times when it hadn't been and they'd almost lost him.

Charles sighed as he sat on what had quickly become 'his' chair and reached out for Erik's mind. There was little to see when the mind was unconscious, unlike dreaming, it was like being stuck in the middle of a thick fog and he had no concept of time as he sat with his eyes closed.

"You know...in the future...the future as it was..." Logan began as he came into the room a few minutes later, "You two always had your differences," he said and Charles smiled listening to him. "But I never saw two people who were better friends when it mattered."

"Good morning, Logan," Charles replied, slowly opening his eyes and drawing himself out of Erik's mind.

Logan moved to lean against the wall behind Charles and he looked out of the window at the grounds where some of the children played happily. "You're spending more time in here than Beast," he remarked, "And he's supposed to be the doctor." Charles gave a small smile as Logan continued, "It's not your fault he's in here."

"But I feel responsible," Charles said. "If I'd tried harder to find him...if I'd been able to tell him that I had some kind of a plan, I..."

"You know you couldn't have. He had his own plan as well."

"He usually does," the telepath nodded.

"Yeah," Logan scoffed.

"...Is there no way you can return to your time?" Charles asked after a while.

"Nope," he answered. "There's no way back to a future that doesn't exist anymore. I'm here for good. You're struck with me."

"Good," Charles smiled.

"It's going to take some getting used to."

"What?"

"Seeing you with hair," Logan answered and Charles laughed.

"Yes, although from what I saw, I did look rather distinguished without it," he remarked. The smile was suddenly wiped from his face though as he felt Erik's mind begin to stir.

"...Don't...be daft," Erik murmured as he shifted in his bed, "You'd look...ridiculous..."

"Erik," Charles said, ecstatic as Erik struggled to open his eyes, "You've no idea how glad I am to hear your voice again."

* * *

Verdammt - Damn it.

* * *

A.N. It took me a while to work out just how things would go for this one and I guess you'll either like it or hate it if you've seen the film. I, personally, am pretty happy with how it works. And, of course, I have to thank PuraStones for helping me with the initial idea.


	27. Early April, 1975

**Early April, 1975.**

* * *

"This is really weird," Alex stated.

"You're not kiddin'," Logan agreed, letting out a puff of smoke from his cigar.

"Funny though," Peter grinned.

"I thought Charles at least had outgrown this," Raven sighed as she crossed her arms.

"Obviously not," Logan said quietly as the four of them stood in the open, double doorway to one of the large sitting rooms on the ground floor.

It was late at night and most of the light in the room was coming from the open fire and about a half dozen lamps scattered on tables. Charles and Erik had clearly been sat there for a while because both of them were very, very drunk.

"You are..." Charles droned and waved a dismissive hand at his equally drunken friend.

"No...you are..." Erik slurred back.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I am not...wait...wait, what was it again?" Charles furrowed his brow and scratched the back of his head.

"Erm...I..don't know," Erik frowned, "I forgot...I think...maybe it was...erm...no, no, I don't know."

"Well, whatever it was, I'm not it...you are," the telepath replied pointing at Erik with his hand which was also holding his tumbler of whiskey.

"...Not..." Erik muttered and finished his own drink.

"Erik...get the deca...the dec...get the drink, Erik," Charles hiccuped.

"Where is...oh...it's over there," Erik sighed heavily and flopped back onto the floor.

"Where's 'over there'?"

"Up there," the German pointed to the coffee table.

"Oh...well get it then."

"How?"

"Just get up."

"D'want to," Erik shook his head but at the same time he began propping himself up on his knees. "...Wait a min..." he muttered and he all but shuffled over to the table and stretched out his hand as though waiting for it to move.

"...What're y'doing?" Charles asked, confused.

"Trying to make it move..."

"Erm...Erik, you..." the telepath began but then, Erik toppled over and took the coffee table with him. The decanter fell to the ground and shattered, spilling the scotch all over the floor.

"Ouch..." Erik muttered.

Charles was sat up on his knees when he broke out into hysterical laughter and banged the floor with his hand before doubling over on all fours, his whole body shaking as he laughed. "W'so damn funny?!" Erik demanded.

"Y'thought you...the glass...you control metal, you moron! Metal! Not glass!" Charles howled.

"...Are you sure?" Erik frowned as Charles continued to laugh.

"Glass!" Charles giggled.

"Man, this is great," Peter whispered, trying his best not to laugh. The others found it just as difficult.

"'M still not sure you're right," Erik blinked.

"Course you're not...look...you're inebria...iner...you're drunk," Charles replied.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are...no...wait..ah-ha!" Charles cried suddenly, "That was it!"

"Wha'?"

"That was."

"What's 'it'?!"

"It!" the telepath stressed, "The same 'it' from before."

"...Before when?" Erik frowned and Charles sighed.

"Forget it."

Erik only shook his head in an exaggerated manner and his eyes settled on the chess set in front of the fire. They'd been playing for hours, just sitting by the open fire but it had been somewhat forgotten now.

"Charles, it's your...it's your move," Erik said suddenly.

"Oh, right," Charles said, shuffling across to the chess board. "Erm...Erik?"

"Mmm?"

"How does the little horse move again?"

"...There's a horse?" Erik asked incredulously, "That can't be r...right."

"No, there is, see," the telepath held up the knight.

"Huh...a horse...Why do we even play this game?"

"Because we...we..." Charles answered uncertainly, "It's because...erm..."

"You don't even know, do you?"

"Neither do you."

"No, I don't," Erik admitted and shook his head, "...Charles?"

"Hmm?"

"...Why's the room spinning?"

"'Cause you're a moron," Charles giggled.

"Oh..." Erik accepted but frowned a second later, "Wait a minute..."

"Ha! Got you!"

"Not funny."

"Yes funny...'s your fault it's spinnin', anyway. You got us both drunk."

"How's it m'fault?"

"This was your idea, so it's your fault," Charles nodded.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Yeah, okay, it is," Erik shrugged and lay down on the rug, "The fun stuff's normally my idea."

"I'm fun," Charles said indignantly.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Charles sighed.

"But...you are...you're my best...my best friend...you know that, right?"

"Erik...some...sometimes I think I'm your only friend."

"Exact...exactly..."

"...Exactly, what?" Charles asked and Erik laughed.

"I don't know!" the German replied and Charles couldn't help but laugh as well, "I really d...don't."

"Oh...you're such a dork."

"What's a dork?"

"Dunno...I heard Peter say it," Charles shrugged.

"He says weird things," Erik replied stoically.

"Sean says it too."

"Sean's weird as well."

"You're weird," the telepath emphasised by raised his hand and pointing at his friend.

"So are you," Erik shot back.

"...Whatever you say..." Charles dismissed. "...Oh...I want to sleep..." he muttered as he lay down on the rug, throwing his arm over his eyes.

"Hey...hey, Charles...do that thing..."

"What thing?"

"That...when you poke around in m'head when I've got into fights an' stuff so I can't feel anything."

"...I'have to be able t'concentrate f'that, genius," Charles murmured.

"Can't you just try?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause then you'll drink more."

"S'the idea."

"No...not fair if you get to and I don't," Charles said, his eyes closed as he yawned.

"Humph," Erik scoffed and turned his attention back to the chess set for a minute or so. After he failed to concentrate on the game he turned back to his friend. "...Charles, I...Charles..." Erik whispered but realised that his friend was asleep.

The telepath was breathing evenly and quietly as he slept and Erik blinked slowly and uneasily got to his feet. He stumbled over to the sofa and pulled off the red blanket and a cushion and then made his way back to Charles. He placed the blanket over his sleeping friend and tossed down the cushion which Charles slowly curled around.

Erik wasted no time in retrieving another bottle of scotch that had been resting on another table and then, finally, he sat back down opposite Charles.

"I never seen anything like that before," Logan smirked from across the room.

"It was brilliant," Alex agreed as they left and closed the doors behind them.


	28. Early May, 1974, Friday 3rd

**Early May, 1974, Friday 3rd.**

* * *

Why had Charles done this to him? That was all Erik could ask himself, over and over again as he stood outside the large double doors leaning against the stone parapet just outside the ballroom. His right hand was gently grading his fourth champagne flute which was half empty as he stared out at the illuminated garden in front of him.

He and Charles were in Oxford, the telepath's alma mater. This was their second night in 'the City of Dreaming Spires' and Erik was counting down the minutes for it to end.

Why had Charles dragged him to England and made him attend a formal dinner? Granted that learning to eat with a dozen different knives and forks was much easier when one had a telepathic friend, it didn't make the experience any more enjoyable. He didn't enjoy the company of the people surrounding him and he doubted that Charles liked all of them either. Not to mention the fact that they were staying in quite possibly the most expensive hotel that Erik's had ever set foot in. All in all, the opulent setting, all of which screamed money and wealth at every turn made him very nervous. He'd grown used to the manor in Westchester at least, but he suspected that it was mostly because the people living there didn't have the same stuffy manner as the people he'd been introduced to tonight. Granted, Charles had introduced him to the more interesting people and made conversation easy for him but he still wasn't comfortable.

Charles, on the other hand was the life and soul of the party. It was a side to his friend that Erik hardly ever saw; the side that could blend in and even come to dominate a society as closed and proper as these Oxford echelons. He'd dominated the conversation over the dinner and he'd danced as many dances as his legs would allow him to; that had been almost every one so far. When Erik had last looked, Charles had been talking animatedly with about a half dozen women. Similarly, Erik had also been talking to - or, rather being talked at, by another group of young women before he'd made his excuses and 'escaped' to the spot he'd now occupied for the last few minutes. Their conversation hadn't exactly been enthralling.

It was another minute before he heard quiet footsteps approaching him and a voice he knew now as well as his own spoke out.

"I see you had no trouble escaping," Charles remarked as he came to stand beside his friend. He was holding two full flutes of champagne and he handed one to Erik, replacing the one he'd just finished.

"It was a narrow escape," Erik smiled.

"Mine too."

"You don't seem to be short of company in there," the German said, looking back at the group of women Charles had just abandoned.

"Neither were you, but that didn't stop you from coming out here to hide," Charles replied.

"...Why are we here, Charles?" Erik asked, shaking his head. "Have I done something recently that upset you and this is your warped idea of punishment?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, my friend," Charles laughed, "Nothing of the kind."

"Then why? You know I don't find this sort of thing entertaining at all."

"Then tomorrow, you chose what we do. You have all of Oxford to chose from."

"I've found I don't much care for your famous Oxford," Erik replied.

"No?"

"No."

"We haven't been here long, and trust me, there's much more to this place than ballrooms and fancy dinner tables. You just have to know where to look."

"I hope you're right."

"I didn't force you to come," Charles said calmly.

"No, you asked...that's what makes you so damn frustrating," Erik muttered.

"I'm sorry?" the telepath questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"You could make anyone do whatever you wanted and you don't. You never do...you should've bought someone else with you," he said. With his left hand, Erik tenderly placed his palm over the wound he'd revived over a year ago in Washington. The damage it had done had been extensive and he still felt the pain from that split second decision he'd made that day.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked him, laying his hand on Erik's shoulder.

"Fine..." he said, unconvincingly. "Raven probably would've been a better choice, you know...to come here with you," Erik added, changing the subject back again.

"I doubt it. She would've hated it as much as you."

"Then why me?"

"Because we both needed a break," Charles exhaled, "And this is mundane enough to distract from everything we normally have to think about."

"Touché," Erik said, "...You're not going to down another yard of ale for your next party trick, are you?" he grinned, "Raven told me."

"She agreed she'd never tell anyone," Charles mumbled.

"She also told me that your pick up lines are appalling."

"She would say that, she's my sister," the telepath shrugged, "And they've never failed me yet...except once, of course."

"Once, when?"

"When I first met Moira."

"And you flirted with her?"

"At the time I was a little drunk and she wasn't the least bit impressed," Charles laughed.

"Now that I'd like to have seen," Erik scoffed.

"Not one of my better moments, I'll admit."

"...You cared about her...in the end?"

"I didn't know her long enough to be able to answer that," Charles shook his head.

"You can learn everything about a person in less than a minute, that excuse doesn't work when it's you," Erik replied.

"No, I suppose not," the telepath smiled, "I did care about her, it's true. But she's better off where she is. We're dangerous people, my friend, and things aren't exactly perfect yet."

"Things are never perfect, you know that."

"I do," Charles agreed sadly.

"Then why did you wipe her memory back then?"

"Why do you avoid telling Raven how you feel?" Charles countered.

"...What do you mean?" Erik asked uneasily as he turned towards his friend.

"You care about her."

"Lots of people care about Raven," Erik shrugged evasively.

"Not the way that you do. I've seen the way you look at her. I've seen it for years."

"And you said nothing?"

"It's none of my business," Charles replied.

"No, it isn't," the German snapped quickly. It wasn't something he wanted to discuss; talking about 'feelings' and 'emotions' hadn't helped him in the past and it certainly didn't make him feel comfortable. But this was Charles he didn't need to lie or hide from Charles. "...Sorry," he murmured and let out a deep breath. "I avoid telling her...because...because she could do so much better," Erik said after a minute, still avoiding eye contact.

"That's not what she thinks."

"Well, the rest of us don't have your skill in finding these things out..."

"You know what she thinks, she's told you," Charles stated, "Several times, in fact."

"You remember those conversations we had about a me maintaining a certain degree of privacy?" Erik sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Can't we talk about something else? Anything else?"

"Alright...but you deserve some happiness in your life. You both do."

"...It's not that simple anyway."

"These things never are."

"It could be."

"It really couldn't," Erik snapped, "Now...change the subject or get back to your...fan club in there," he said, using his eyes to gesture into the ballroom.

Charles let out a deep breath and gave a smile to his friend a minute later, "You know, I'm fairly sure that one of them was a sculptor," he said.

"...Why are you telling me that?"

"She works with metal," Charles answered and laughed, "Maybe you should go and talk to her."

"And say what? 'Hello, I hear you work with metal, well guess what, I can manipulate it with my mind'?" Erik scoffed. "I think you should stop while you're ahead," he said.

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to...matchmake."

"You're calling me a matchmaker? I'm insulted," Charles sniffed.

"Good, but will you stop?"

"I wasn't trying in the first place."

"Of course you weren't," Erik shook his head. "So, tell me then, if this place is so great, what can we do that doesn't involve spending a night in the company of people with more money than sense?"

"Well, there's...museums, the theatre, the castle, we could see the gardens and the river; I haven't been down the river in a while," Charles answered.

"Fine, but no more dinner parties."

"Alright," the telepath chuckled, "No more dinner parties."


	29. Mid March, 1962

**Mid March, 1962.**

* * *

It was around four months after Cuba when Charles finally forced himself to enter what had been designated as Erik's room when he'd stayed there in the short time before Cuba. The room was one of the most recently decorated with light, open colours as opposed to the older, darker ones that his mother had so loathed.

The reason why Charles had left the room untouched he wasn't exactly sure he could pinpoint. Even when Hank and Sean had gone to clear out Erik's clothes that he'd left, he'd stopped them...and he hadn't known why. There could be many different reasons for his behaviour. One could be some mind of vain hope that Erik would return. Of course, it was much more likely to be that he simply didn't want to face the fact this his friend was gone for good.

And so, here he was, hovering in the doorway as the light streamed in from the windows. Everything was perfectly tidy; the bed had been made, the clothes were neatly folded even the few books Erik had taken from the mansions' library were stacked neatly on the desk. But there was nothing personal about it. The others all had some form of uniqueness about their rooms but Erik hadn't. Charles knew why. It was because Erik had spent so long moving from place to place that he'd lost who he was. He'd never taken the time for hobbies, so Charles had been more than obliging when he'd first discovered that Erik could play chess.

None of that explained why though, he was so tentative to even enter the room.

He liked to think of it as laying a ghost to rest. In all the times he'd tried reaching out for Erik's mind he'd drawn a blank; Erik was shutting him out using his helmet no doubt. He could easily finds the minds of Raven, Azazel and Riptide, even Emma Frost he could find if he wanted to...but he didn't. He'd spoke to his sister once, over a month ago. It had been a very short lived conversation.

Once he acknowledged that Erik and Raven weren't going to come back then he knew he'd have to move on...and he wasn't sure he could do that. He wasn't sure he was strong enough. More to the point; he wasn't quite sure he wanted to.

In all the years since he'd first developed his abilities, Charles had never found a mind he was so attuned to as he had been to Erik's. it was strange that it had happened in such a short space of time but when one could see everything within a persons' mind in a matter of seconds, he supposed that time didn't exactly matter.

And Raven, his beautiful sister, whom he should have known was beautiful from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, was gone now too. The one person he could always count on over the years was gone. Why had he been so blind? So stupid? For someone who claimed to be so intelligent it was a foolish mistake, one he'd never forgive himself for.

A shiver ran down the back of his neck as he moved slowly into the room and across to the desk, where, slung unassumingly across the desk chair was Erik's brown leather jacket. He reached across and rested his hand against the slightly worn material and couldn't help the sigh that passed through his lips. His anger had worn down as the months had progressed but that didn't mean that he slept easy every night. Charles knew he needed to move on but that was easier said that done.

His mind was finally made up. He'd have the room cleared of all Erik's possessions...if only for the sake of his sanity.

"_I have to say goodbye, Erik, for both our sakes_," he thought, hoping more than anything, that maybe his friend might just hear him.


	30. Late December, 1972

**Late December, 1972.**

* * *

"_Charles_?!" Erik practically shouted in his mind, waiting for his friend to hear him. He knew it might not even work.

Charles was thousands of miles away in Westchester while he was still in Vietnam with Sean and Darwin but he knew that in the years since he and the others had left America, the telepath had been straining his abilities every other day in order to keep in touch with their minds. It had cost Charles dearly when Alex had been injured, mentally that was, meaning that he'd felt the whole thing just almost two years ago when it happened. Alex was lucky, extremely lucky to have survived. Hank had also been forced to return to America when his serum ran out and he couldn't hold back his mutation any longer, much to his regret.

"_Charles_?!" the German repeated even louder than before.

"_Erik_?" Charles' voice sounded in his mind.

"_It's good to hear your voice again, my friend_."

"_It is indeed_."

"_We're being sent back, Charles_," Erik said, "_We're finished here_."

"_I know_," the telepath smiled.

"_I'll be glad to return to the manor, some peace and quiet will be a welcome change_," the German remarked.

"_Aside from the irony of hearing you value a quiet life, there are still children here and children are seldom quiet_."

"_After everything I've seen here...I think I can handle a few children_."

"_No doubt_," Charles replied, heavily. "..._You did what you set out to do_," he said, "_You kept them safe_."

"_Not completely_," Erik sighed, thinking of Alex and how he had been wounded.

"_He's alive, Erik, and he's doing fine. You saved his life_."

"_We saved his life, together_," Erik corrected him.

"_Yes, we did. Now hurry back, my friend_."

* * *

Weeks later Erik, Sean and Darwin found themselves back in America. They met Hank at the airport, evidently he'd made more of his serum and he was stood before a shiny silver car with his pale skin, glasses and slender build once more.

"Beast!" Sean exclaimed and practically ran across to his friend, ignoring his own lethargy. "S' good to see you, man," he smiled, hugging the scientist, "Is fur not in this season?" he asked jokingly and Hank chuckled in response.

"That never gets old," he rolled his eyes as Darwin slapped him on the arm in a camaraderie-like manner. "Good to see you too, Erik," Hank said, turning his attention to the German as they shook hands.

"And you, Hank," Erik nodded. He and Hank would be never be the best of friends but over time they'd learned to get along, and spending a few years together in a war had probably helped matters, however warped that seemed.

All of them, excluding Erik, talked animatedly as Hank drove the car though the city. Erik couldn't deny that years of war had changed all of the people sat around him in some ways but whether it had changed him personally wasn't something he was very sure about. He'd already seen some of the worst atrocities that man could commit and he knew that he'd been somewhat desensitised to violence as a young boy. Having to commit similar violent acts to survive, however was a different matter. He'd volunteered to go. He'd willingly gone to Vietnam so that he could protect Charles' students.

Some of the students at the manor now had never known Erik, Sean or Darwin but of course they had heard of them and so they were understandably apprehensive about meeting them.

The foyer was quiet as the car outside pulled to a stop, with only three people standing there; Charles was at the foot of the grand staircase with Alex, Scott and Raven beside him. It had taken a while for Alex to begin to recover from his shrapnel wounds and even now they still pained him when he exerted himself. He had a feeling that his left arm would never quite be the same but it was a small price to pay for the fact that he was still alive.

As the front door finally opened they could see that the three of them all looked exhausted but that didn't appear to stop both Sean and Darwin from smiling and walking quickly across to them.

"Good to see you still in one piece, man," Darwin joked at Alex as they all shared brief, friendly hugs.

"I wasn't worried; I knew he'd be alright from day one," Sean shrugged.

"Sure you did," Hank scoffed.

"What? I did," Sean reiterated.

"Uh-huh," Alex rolled his eyes with a smile.

Raven took a moment to send a smile across to Erik who acknowledged it with a small upturn of his lip. They weren't exactly the hugging kind when it came to the other, at least not in public.

As they turned their attention over to the professor they saw that Charles certainly looked a little different from when they'd seen him last. His hair had grown out as had the short brown stubble on his face and his old prim and proper dress sense looked as though it had taken a bit of a beating. His blue cotton shirt was unbuttoned and he wore a vest underneath tucked into his grey trousers; gone was the waistcoat and cardigan. They took turns in greeting the man whom they all looked up to and admired more than anyone and it was clear to them that Charles was overjoyed to have them back.

"Dressing down, are we?" Erik remarked with a raised eyebrow as he walked across to the telepath.

"Raven tells me that cardigans are out this season...whatever that means," Charles shrugged as he turned to Erik, strangely stoic.

"Charles, cardigans were never 'in' season," the German scoffed and Raven laughed.

"I could kick you out for insulting my dress sense, you know," the telepath said in a serious tone.

"Go ahead," Erik replied and for a second they both stared, uplinking at each other while the others watched, incredulously.

After a moment, Charles' stern frown vanished, replied instead by a huge, beaming smile which was instantly mirrored on Erik's face as well. The telepath took a step forwards, eliminating the distance between them and his cane clattered to the floor as he embraced his friend with old, unchanged familiarity.

"I would never do that," Charles smiled, "Ah, my dear old friend...welcome home."

"...Less of the old," Erik replied with an overjoyed laugh as he rested his hands against Charles' back.

As much as they were aware that it was somewhat rude to temporarily ignore the other people in the room, it was much too easy for both of them to simply savour the fact that they were both under the same roof again. For three years they'd been limited to communicate only through a mental link that Charles had to keep up over a distance of thousands of miles whenever the wanted to talk. It wasn't the same as being in the same room and feeling that metal link that was much stronger now due to their close proximity.

Erik had known for years now that Charles' mind was attuned to his own and if he had to admit it, he knew that they'd both grown far to accustomed to that link than was probably healthy.

"_I know exactly how you feel_," Charles told him through that link, "_And we have a lot of catching up to do_," he added.

"_Not that I mean to diminish anything you'll have to tell me_," Erik began, "_But for the next few hours, at least, all I want is my bed and some peace and quiet_."

It wasn't only his body that was tired, Erik's mind was exhausted too and Charles could feel it. His friend had seen even more terrible things and those residual memories, memories that Erik was doing his damnedest to shut away, served to wipe the smile clean off Charles' face.

"Of course," Charles spoke aloud, serving only to confuse the others across from them, "Of course."

"I'm joking, Charles," Erik said quickly, squeezing his friends' upper arm. "Three years is too long. I'm sure I can rest while you talk..you don't even have to talk, you can just think it."

"Well then, tonight why don't we have a feast...a party?" Charles suggested, glancing at the others.

"Party?" Alex's eyes lit up.

"Feast?" Sean repeated in much the same manner.

"You heard what I said about peace and quiet, right?" Erik rolled his eyes at his friend.

"It's not every day I get to welcome you all back safe and more or less sound," the telepath replied.

"Any excuse for a party," Erik sighed like a much tried parent.

"I call the chips!" Alex grinned suddenly as he ran off towards the kitchen.

"I call the onion rings!" Darwin called.

"Damn it!" Scott muttered, running off after them, "Wait up!"

"Now you've done it," Raven sighed looking at her brother.

"It seems so...would you mind?" Charles said in a hopeful tone

"Sometimes I wonder just who's in charge here," she threw up her blue arms and walked off.

"Thank you, Raven...dearest," her brother called after her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she muttered back, disappearing through the door.

Erik could only laugh at the scene as Charles threw an arm across his shoulders with a smile. Using his powers, he raised the cane and floated it over to Charles. Thankfully there was a silver, metal handle and tip which made it possible; clearly this one was a family heirloom.

Charles took the cane from the air with a quiet "thank you" and the two shared a smile as they walked up the stairs.

* * *

After a loud, raucous party over a large meal shared by everyone in the manor, Erik and Charles sat for several hours in the latter's study over a decanter of scotch and the chess set that hadn't been touched in just over three years. Three very long years.

"As far as I know the last of the troops will stay for a few more months," Erik remarked, "...I'd had enough...I'd seen enough."

"Yes, this is another war that's gone on for too long," Charles said.

"All wars go on for too long," the German replied as he used his powers to move one of his pieces across the board.

"Checkmate," the telepath remarked, moving his queen, "You know...I rather get the feeling that you threw the game."

"Hmm."

"Is your mind elsewhere?"

"You tell me."

"Erik..." Charles sighed heavily but his friend stood up suddenly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I...just have to talk to someone...I won't be long."

"Take as long as you need," Charles replied in understanding.

"I'd...rather have some privacy for a while," the German added, walking over to the door and opening it.

"Of course, my friend."

"Thanks," Erik murmured, closing the door behind him.

* * *

He passed no one as he moved through the house, everyone was already asleep...except the three of them; himself, Charles and her. Erik found her in the kitchen, mindlessly wiping the countertops and moving dishes that had already been cleaned from one place to another.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.

"Erik?" she frowned and spun around in surprise.

"You used to be harder to scare," he remarked, "Or are you just not happy to see me?"

"Of course I'm happy to see you," Raven replied quickly, "...Is Charles asleep?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"...What?"

"He's...erm...been excited to see you again, so I assumed you'd be talking to him all night..."

"He's not asleep and we have been talking all night, now I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"You have to tell me what Charles doesn't want me to know about," he said, looking her in the eyes as she sat at the table.

"Business...of course," she smiled sardonically. "Of course...but what makes you think there is anything?"

"Raven."

"You're right," she sighed, "There is something...did he tell you about a man called Trask?"

"Not much."

"He's anti mutant and he's very, very vocal about it...we found him using mutants to experiment on."

"Who?"

"Angel and Riptide," Raven said.

"Where are they now?" Erik asked with quiet rage.

"They left as soon as they woke up," she shrugged, "It was only a few months ago. I tried to convince them to stay but they wouldn't listen to me. They were in a bad way, both of them. They were recovering for about two months."

"And what's Charles doing about Trask?"

"Well...we've made it clear that we can defend ourselves but Emma's being vocal enough for all of us."

"In what way?"

"She's amassing an army, Erik. Charles has spoken to her...it wasn't for very long and he didn't tell me much about it but whatever he said has kept her away from the manor. It's not us she hates anymore. He's afraid that she's going to do something...stupid."

"I'll talk to her again," Erik said, "Do you know where she is?"

"No," Raven shook her head, "But I doubt she's using our old hideout," she added, watching Erik push his chair back and walk slowly away from her. "Erik," she called quickly, "He would've told you all this...if you'd given him time, he would have."

"We don't have time when it comes to things like this," he replied. "I don't want another war...but this one is coming."

"I think he knows that...deep down..."

"He's in denial."

"He doesn't want to watch people die," she shot back.

"Neither do I, but we're not the ones staring this war," Erik said coldly, "But we'll fight back."


	31. Early October, 1972

**Early October, 1972.**

* * *

"Hello, Emma," Charles said with an unreadable expression.

Azazel was at his side and the telepath turned to him the second after they appeared in the park. "I'll call you when I need you again," he smiled and the red skinned mutant gave an acknowledging nod before vanishing. It was late afternoon and, with Azazel gone, Charles unfroze the entire vicinity and people continued to move around none the wiser.

"We both know that meeting in a public place wouldn't stop me or my people if I intended to kill you today," she remarked as she walked towards him. She was dressed casually for a change, wearing tight grey trousers tucked into a pair of white boots and a white, turtleneck jumper to match.

"Who said anything about killing," Charles shrugged, "I just wanted to come to the park."

"I do admire that trick of yours," Emma grinned as Charles sat down on a metal bench, resting his cane against the seat.

"Still can't manage it, hmm?"

"I will, one day," she said with arrogance and crossed her arms as she stood in front of him.

"Do sit down," Charles rolled his eyes.

"I'd rather not, sugar."

"As you like," he sighed.

"Enough small talk," Emma began in a clipped tone, "Why are my people still with you?"

"As I've already told you; because they are wounded and cannot yet be moved," he answered calmly. "But they're getting better," he added.

"...I'm going to make Trask pay for this," Emma hissed.

"He already wants revenge for what he sees as a victory over him for freeing them in the first place. You'll only make things worse," Charles sighed.

"How could things be worse? He's studying us so that he can destroy us all! And you're still too busy hiding away in your school with your precious students to even care!" she spat.

"Of course I care," he glared at her, "But I'm not the one who sent them on a suicide mission in the first place...That was your idea, wasn't it? Only you thought they'd die quickly so they wouldn't suffer."

"I didn't have any other choice," she admitted, angrily, "I needed to prove to people that he's a monster..."

"And you're not going to tell them, are you?"

"What do you think?" she scoffed.

"They'll find out eventually."

"Is that a threat?" she narrowed her eyes at him, menacingly.

"No, it's just a fact," Charles answered calmly, "They aren't stupid."

"Humph," she scoffed.

"They're not," he reiterated, "And you'd do well to remember that."

"As soon as they wake they'll return to me."

"No doubt, but how long do you think it will take for them to start asking questions?"

"I can deal with that," she tilted her head.

"I'd rather you didn't. You could cause irreparable damage..."

"Are you saying that I'm weak?!"

"No, not at all, I say only that your talents lie mostly with shielding, not with altering what a person knows."

"Well, that implies that I'd care about any damage, anyway," she shrugged as Charles sighed deeply, "Not that it would actually happen...You could stop them if you wanted to. You could make them change their minds and stay with you instead," she said, "But you won't, because out of the both of us you're really the weak one. You won't do what must be done."

"You still don't understand," he said sadly, "And I doubt you ever will."

"I don't want to understand you or your pets. I know the reason why Magneto returned to you but I don't understand it. Whatever hold you have over him makes him weak and you know it."

"Erik isn't weak...you're afraid of him," Charles stated.

"Really?" she raised a sarcastic eyebrow, "Stay out of my head, sugar, or I'll rip yours to shreds."

"If you could do that you would have done it years ago," he replied.

"And you think I'm arrogant?" Emma scoffed as he looked at her curiously.

"...Look at those children playing over there," Charles said suddenly, gesturing with his head at a group of young children playing around the slides and swings. "You can read their minds as easily as I can. Tell me what they're thinking about right now."

"Why?"

"Humour me."

"...They're thinking about...what pointless game to play," she sighed dramatically.

"Exactly. They're thinking about things that all children think about - human or mutant, all children want to play. We're the same. They don't all want to destroy us."

"They're easily lead astray by people like Trask, they're weak and insignificant."

"You can touch so many minds...don't you see how beautiful the mind really is?"

"Their minds are worthless."

"No ones mind is worthless."

"Don't even think you can change me, Xavier, I'm not Magneto," she growled.

"His name is Erik," Charles replied.

"But he is Magneto, too."

"...As soon as they're well enough, Angel and Janos will be able to do as they please," Charles sighed, knowing that their conversation wasn't going to advance any further.

"His name is Riptide!" she hissed.

"Of course," he nodded, "Of course...your majesty," he added dryly, referring to her aliases of Ice Queen and White Queen.

"You know that one day," she began calmly, "One day you'll get in my way one time too many...and then I'll kill you all."

"I hope that day never comes because you know too, that I won't go down easily and certainly not without a fight."

"I didn't know you had a fighting bone in your body," she smirked, "Magneto and your pets can't always do your dirty work for you, Professor."

Charles took a deep breath and stood up, not breaking their eye contact as he took a step towards her. "I don't force them to do anything," he told her, "People value free will more than oppression."

"Which is exactly what I offer them; the choice between being oppressed by the humans or me," Emma replied. She placed a hand on his face, cupping his cheek and leant in to kiss his lips lightly. "Maybe one day you'll see I'm right," she said.

"I doubt that," Charles gave her a rueful smile.

"Till next time, handsome," she added, taking a step back before turning and walking off into the crowd.


	32. Early February, 1973

**Early February, 1973.**

* * *

"_XAVIER_!"

Charles Xavier had been lightly dozing in his large, feather like bed in the early hours of the morning when he heard Emma Frost's shrill, furious voice scream inside his mind.

So, minutes later, Azazel teleported him to the large, abandoned church he saw in Emma's thoughts and he stood wondering just what had made her summon him of all people.

Azazel walked away and sat on the dusty pew furthest away from them while Charles cautiously moved over to Emma. It never seemed to bother Azazel but Charles often felt guilty about using the man as a personal, frequent, teleport. He'd once confronted the mutant about that very issue, but Azazel had made it clear that although he was used to it, he didn't mind it either. He wanted to be of use, so Charles had let the matter drop.

He saw Emma sitting near the pulpit on the small raised platform with her feet on the ground and her elbows resting on her knees, her posture spoke of defeatism and hopelessness. Even her usual pristine white clothes were dirty and rumpled.

"Over there," she said, gesturing with an upturn of her head to across the room.

Charles, silently, moved to where he found a sheet of cloth, clearly there was something underneath and it didn't take a genius to figure out what that some thing was from the shape. "That's how I found them," Emma said as he gently raised the sheet.

Beneath it lay five bodies, five bodies that had been badly beaten and mutilated, one of them was Riptide. He didn't recognise the others as having known them personally, but Charles had seen fleeting images of their faces in Erik and Raven's minds from the time they'd spent apart years ago.

"Trask did this," he breathed heavily, "He's experimenting again...with much more severity."

"You think?!" she growled and he glanced reproachfully at her before he recently covered the bodies with the blood stained sheet.

"Emma..."

"This time I can say they did no harm to anyone. They weren't attacking anyone. They weren't...doing anything. I don't know how he caught them," she said. "But...but the time I found them...it was too late...I don't want our race to be destroyed," she sighed, "But I won't let him get away with this. If I do nothing else in my life I'm going to kill him."

"What he did to them..." Charles shook his head and moved closer to her, very slowly, "Is unforgivable...but..."

"Don't you dare defend him!"

"I'm not. I agree with you. This...is appalling. I'm angry, just like you. They didn't deserve this."

"Angel was with them as well. Do you want to know what they did to her? They ripped off her wings. It's like tearing off a limb! She survived. She's alive...barely. She already survived him once. Wasn't that enough?!"

"...Have you got the facilities to care for her?" Charles asked.

"Of course I have. She's one of mine. I have people with medical knowledge," Emma snapped.

"Alright, but if she should need more help..."

"She'll be fine...I think her wings have started growing back. Who knows if they'll be the same though?" she snorted.

"I know we have our differences and we always will, but surely you see that if we work together, work against him and not against each other..."

"No, no, I don't want to hear it," Emma shook her head. "I don't care for you or your pets anymore. My new mission, my only mission is to kill Trask. It's the only way for this to end. You know that. If we let him live, more of us will die."

"...I know."

"Then, tell no one about this. Let me do what must be done...and don't get in my way," she ordered, standing up with renewed energy.

"Erik, Raven and Azazel at least have a right to know, they personally knew those poor people."

"No! They gave up that right when they left us. These are my people now and Trask is killing them. I am going to end this. I'm warning you now; if you try and stop me I'll kill you. I mean it."

"If you kill him you'll make us the enemy."

"I don't care about that anymore. I only want him dead. You can do what you want. You can try and ally with the humans if you want, just be sure to stay out of my way. Don't tell anyone...You can go now," she finished turning away from him. "...I don't want to see you ever again," she added.

"...Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Charles sighed.

* * *

It was late at night and Charles was sat in his study. He and Azazel had agreed that he would break the news of what Emma had revealed, himself. He'd planned to quickly tell Erik and then tell Raven separately, but he was finding it difficult. He was fearful of Erik's reaction and after several hours, Charles still hadn't spoken a word about it. It was so late that Erik had carried the decanter and their glasses to the cabinet for the night.

"Erik...I..." Charles began, realising that he was rapidly running short on time. If he left it too long to tell Erik he wouldn't earn his friend's thanks.

"I hope you're not proposing another game, Charles. You know I'll only win again and I'm rather tired," he smiled closed the cabinet.

"No...I...I need to talk to you about something," Charles breathed, "It's important and I've postponed it for long enough."

"What is it?" Erik asked, glancing back at the seriousness in his friend's voice.

"I...spoke to Emma today."

"...You did what?" Erik choked, "I had no idea you and she were on friendly terms."

"She called out to me," the telepath said.

"What did she want?" the German asked with repressed anger as he sat back down.

Charles looked across, meeting Erik's eyes as he forced himself to speak, "Riptide is dead, Erik. Trask killed him along with four others," he sighed, showing the bloodied faces he'd seen earlier to his friend. "Angel was injured...again. Emma claims to want to care for her this time."

"And when did you...how long have you known?" Erik breathed.

"...Since this morning," Charles admitted, "I almost wish she hadn't told me."

"You're afraid I'll do something...stupid?"

"A little, yes, although I admit, it would be entirely justified."

"This has gone on for long enough."

"I agree," the telepath sighed, "So...should you wish to leave...I won't hold it against you."

"...What?" Erik exclaimed, "You think I'm leaving?"

"I'd understand if you did," Charles reiterated with a heavy heart.

"After everything we've been through, you'd send me away?"

"No...no, that's not what I'm saying...I don't know. Maybe Emma's right and I'm wrong. Maybe I am too passive...despite my best efforts."

"Charles...you're the strongest person I know...and you know it's not easy for me to say that," Erik replied honestly.

"Then why do these things keep on happening? Why can't I stop them?" Charles asked sadly. "Maybe you and Emma were right all along...if he was...if he was dead then..."

"Wait...Charles...you're endorsing his murder?"

"No!" the telepath cried, "Yes...oh, I don't know..." he added quickly.

"That's what it will come down to one day," Erik said.

"I think that day will be soon and I have no idea what to do," Charles told him. "Would you like me to tell Raven about Riptide and the others or shall I?" he asked after a moment.

"I'll tell her," Erik said quickly, making his way to the door, "I'll tell her."

"Alright," Charles nodded.

"And...one more thing."

"Hmm?"

"I'm not planning on going anywhere," the German said and left before he had the time to see Charles' smile back at him.


	33. Late October, 1972

**Late October, 1972.**

* * *

"I wish you'd stay," Raven said sadly.

"You can still come with us," Angel said, gripping Raven's arm, "You're one of us."

"No," she shook her head slowly, "I belong here...I'm sorry."

"He's making you say that," Riptide muttered, casting a brief glance at Charles.

"It was my choice."

"And you?" Riptide asked, turning to Azazel who, so far had reminded silent, "You only stayed because Magneto did, but he's not here now, is he? You could come back with us."

"No, I couldn't," Azazel replied sadly.

"Traitor," Riptide hissed.

"Thank you...for...what you did, but...we'd have been fine," Angel said, turning Charles for a moment.

"You would have died if we hadn't got you out," Raven ground out, "And you know it...Emma wouldn't have saved you. She doesn't care..."

"Raven," Charles interrupted her and stepped across to where they stood before the front door.

"I say just let 'em go," Alex shrugged, "We saved their asses and they still think they were 'fine." He leant against the wall and looked decidedly disinterested about the whole thing. Charles only shot him a brief, dissuading glance before he turned his attention back to the people standing in his doorway.

"If you should ever change your minds...for whatever reason...you're welcome to come here," he said to Angel and Riptide.

"Why would we change our minds?" Riptide asked but Charles only smiled kindly back at him.

"You know something we don't?" Angel scrutinised him.

"Only that you are on a path that cannot end well," Charles said.

"Yeah, for the humans," she scoffed.

"...Of course," the telepath sighed.

"If you'd seen the things we have..."

"Have you forgotten so easily? I have seen it. I've seen everything that you have seen. I felt what you both suffered at Trask's hands. I understand what you want."

"And you'd still deny us revenge?" she glared.

"You deserve retribution for what happened to you," Charles said genuinely, "But don't you see what will happen if you..."

"I don't care," Angel hissed, "We're going to make him pay and you can't stop us."

"I could, very easily actually."

"Then do it," Riptide challenged, standing forwards.

"Don't even think about it," Alex growled back, jumping towards him.

"Alex, please," Charles rolled his eyes, "We don't attack our guests."

"Professor..."

"And it's not polite to threaten the people who saved your lives," he said to both Angel and Riptide in the same manner.

"Don't think you can tell is what to do," Riptide sneered, "Come on, we're leaving," he said to Angel.

Charles nodded and Azazel, along with his two 'passengers' vanished then he reappeared alone a second later.

"We'll probably never see them again...at least not for a while," Raven sighed.

"Maybe things will change for them. There's a lot they don't understand yet," Charles replied enigmatically.

"What do you mean by that?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Something important..I hope," her brother answered and walked off, his every other step echoing with the sound of his cane hitting the floor, "But then...I have been wrong before," he added before he was out of earshot.


	34. Early November, 1963, Saturday 9th

**Early November, 1963, Saturday 9th.**

* * *

It was the middle of the night and Azazel was sat out in the rather extensive grounds of the Xaviver manor. He'd spent the last few weeks mostly by himself; he rarely spoke to anyone else, save for Erik and Raven of course.

He especially had a difficult time dealing with Erik's decision to return to the old house. He knew none of the people who lived within its walls and he'd fought against them. What hope did he had to integrate himself into a close knit group of people? At any rate, he didn't much care. He was here because Magneto was here. That was all. From what he'd seen, this professor, though possessing of great power, wasn't in a hurry to prove it. Magneto never failed to miss an opportunity to 'show off' his powers and to demonstrate just how 'superior' they made him. Charles Xavier was the complete antithesis.

"_All alone again, Azazel_," the professor suddenly remarked in his mind, his calm, rich voice echoing along side his own thoughts.

"Leave me be," Azazel growled aloud.

"_I think you've spent enough time alone as it is, my friend_."

"I'm not your friend."

"_You could be_."

"I doubt that," the red skinned mutant scoffed.

"_You don't trust me at all, do you_?" Charles smiled, "_You think I'm a fool_."

"Why do you ask if you already know what I think?" Azazel hissed, his voice heavily accented as he made a point only to reply verbally. He didn't want the telepath to think that he was comfortable with someone else inside his head.

"_I wasn't reading your mind_," the telepath replied, "_I've found that, generally, people don't approve when I read their thoughts if I can help it. So I don't...or, rather, I try not to and I'm usually quite successful_."

"Usually?"

"_Some minds are harder to block out than others_," Charles said.

"And mine?"

"_I can't hear a peep, I'm only projecting my words to you so that I can talk to you_."

"Why would you do that?" Azazel furrowed his brow, "You can hear thoughts and yet you block them out. I don't understand."

"_Neither do I sometimes_," the telepath gave a small chuckle. "_We're really not so bad_ _here, once you get to know us_," he added kindly.

"Who says I want to?"

"_You're still here, aren't you_," Charles remarked rhetorically.

"Because Magneto is still here," Azazel shot back.

"_Ah, yes, of course, but Erik never asked you to stay. That was your choice. No one else made the same choice as you did...Is it that you're more confused over; why he chose to come here rather than remain with the Brotherhood_?"

"You know nothing about the..."

"_On the contrary, I know quite a lot about it, and not because I read your mind or Erik's. I've been keeping tabs on the Brotherhood for a while now. I know where you operate from, I know you've been recruiting and I know the names of many of most of your recruits_."

"And yet you did nothing with this knowledge? Are you enemy or ally, then?"

_"I'm no one's enemy but I'm certainly not an ally to any organisation which uses intimidation and murder to get what they want_," Charles replied sternly. It was a tone that Azazel hadn't heard from the telepath before and he wondered just how commanding the man could be if he put his mind to it.

"You cannot be neutral in this."

"_I'm not_."

"Hmm," Azazel scoffed.

"_You think I'm foolish because I'm not acting as you see fit. I understand_," Charles said calmly.

"You understand nothing."

"_Oh, but I do_," the telepath replied heavily, "_I know you think that Erik won't want to stay long...but you should know that I didn't make him come here nor am I forcing him to stay against his will. I'm glad you're here...all of you_."

"This cannot last. Soon we will return to the Brotherhood and none of this will matter," Azazel growled back haughtily.

"_In that case I'll leave you to brood in peace_," Charles sighed, "_Good night, Azazel_."

Azazel made no move or sound to acknowledge what he'd just heard, instead, he remained unmoving where he sat on the cool grass beneath the large oak tree. Hearing another voice inside his head, he had to admit was more than a little unnerving but he could see why Erik would grew so used to it. Perhaps it was a source of strength for him. Although why Magneto would need more strength, Azazel didn't know. He'd rarely known anyone as strong as Magneto and yet the man had given up the Brotherhood, a group of dedicatedly loyal followers all willing to fight to the death for him, to return to this telepathic professor. It didn't make any sense to Azazel at all.

Even Raven seemed delighted to here and in the time he'd known her she'd been one of the most melancholy he'd ever met. Erik had once remarked that the day she left her brother behind was the day she stopped smiling. He'd been there of course when Charles had been shot and he'd seen just how much Erik cared for the telepath but in his life he'd learned not to care for others. He'd thought that Erik understood, he'd thought that Erik would leave Charles in the past and move on; obviously not.

Although, he didn't much share Erik's passion for the future of their kind, Azazel was much more blasé about it. Shaw hadn't cared for anyone or anything and that was an attitude that Azazel had adapted at a young age in order to survive. It was why he'd followed Shaw. He followed Erik out of respect. Erik had killed Shaw and so he had command of Shaw's followers. It was the natural order of things. It was militaristic. It was easy to understand, but here things were a little different. Here, people challenged their leader and asked him for help, things that were unheard of in the Brotherhood. So, Azazel couldn't understand why Erik had returned. He just couldn't understand it.


	35. Mid November, 1976

**Mid November, 1976.**

* * *

When Erik heard an explosion come from deep inside the manor he was, understandably, more than a little worried. He knew that Charles was working in the lab with Hank and had been for hours now so the second he heard it, he jumped to his feet and ran through the long corridors as fast as he could whilst ignoring the increasingly nagging pain he felt in his chest. His sudden movements were tugging at his old wound, which, even though it was several years old, it still hurt from time to time. He didn't much care at the moment though.

He found that the lab was almost completely hidden within a dense, grey fog which consumed him the moment he opened the doors to the room. He began coughing and he ran to push open the windows, trying to keep his hand over his mouth and nose to block out the fumes. As the smoke began to clear a little and he could make out Hank's dark silhouette filtering through the day light, Erik looked around for any sign of Charles, but he found none.

"Charles?" he called out as he wafted the air around him, "Hank?"

"...He's over here," Hank said tentatively and Erik furrowed his brow in confusion. Unsure of why the scientist would sound so nervous, he walked over to Hank and as he got closer, he could see that his eyes were focused down to the floor, so he looked as well.

There weren't many things in life that Erik could honestly say had stunned him speechless. This, he had to admit, was one of them.

Raven and Logan had also heard the explosion and had run through the manor just as Erik had, then a second later, Azazel appeared with Sean, Scott, Darwin, Peter and Alex. They were all just as speechless as Erik was.

Charles clothes were lying on the floor but the Charles sitting in the middle of them was somewhat lacking in the height to fit them properly. He also looked younger, a lot younger...about thirty years younger.

"...Whoa," Logan breathed, "This is...new..."

"Hank, you better explain this...quickly..." Erik took a deep breath as he glanced back at the scientist.

"Well...we were studying Logan's cells...specifically..erm, the regenerative qualities...in them, I mean, so..."

"That's all you can say?! This is a disaster! Look at him!" Erik yelled, "He's..."

"He's adorable!" Raven cried and Alex snorted.

"That's...not what I was going to say," the German sighed.

"...Do I know you people?" the now young Charles asked, looking up at them.

"Oh no," Erik deflated, scrubbing his hands down his face, "No...this isn't happening, tell me he's joking."

"He doesn't look like he's joking," Hank said sheepishly but quietened when Erik sent a dark glare his way.

"Hey, Charles," Raven said with a warm smile as she knelt down beside the small boy.

"You...you have blue skin," the child exclaimed with a wide smile. "I've never seen anyone like you before," he said, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand. Even as a child he'd been curious and this just proved that he was just as trusting and curious as he was when he matured. "Who are you?"

"I'm Raven, that's Hank, Logan, Sean, Darwin, Alex, Scott, Azazel and that's Erik," she quickly gestured to her friends behind her.

"...He looks angry about something," Charles told her conspiratorially as he glanced at Erik.

"He sure does, doesn't he," Raven frowned.

"Shouldn't he just be able to read our minds and find out what happened?" Erik whispered to Hank.

"Not if he's...erm...young in his mind as well as his body now," Hank answered.

"How old are you?" Raven asked kindly.

"...Nine. Why?" Charles answered warily.

Raven swallowed as a nervous expression took hold of her face, then she stood and walked over to Hank and Erik.

"This isn't good," she said quietly, "He got his powers when he was nine...does this mean he'll have to go through it all again?"

"You better find a way to fix this before that happens," Erik ground out, glaring at Hank.

"Did something blow up in here?" the young boy asked suddenly as he looked around and sniffed the air which was still thick with the stench of burnt chemicals.

The smoke had almost cleared away completely through the open windows now and they could see the wide, startlingly blue eyes of a man they all knew, but now looked so very different set in the face of this child. "What happened to my clothes?" Charles asked suddenly, only just noticing that his clothes were several sizes too big.

* * *

"This can't be happening...it just isn't possible..." Erik muttered to himself as he paced about the sitting room. They'd left Charles in the lab with Hank after finding the, now small boy, some clothes that actually fit him while they gathered in the sitting room.

"Erm...Erik..." Raven tried to speak, but once again he didn't seem to be listening.

"This is a disaster," the German continued, "A complete and utter disaster...how could this even..."

"Erik, I think you need to calm down..."

"Calm down? What...how can you be so calm about this?!" he spun on his heels to face her with his face flushed and his arms in the air.

"It's not like he's been hurt..." Raven replied.

"Not been hurt?!" Erik repeated incredulously, "Not been hurt?! He's nine years old! Nine! And he doesn't know who we are! He thinks it's still 19..."

"1942," Raven supplied quietly, "And I'm sure Hank will be able to fix this..."

"It's his fault this happened in the first place!"

"Charles was there too, and you know that accidents can happen in a lab..."

"Hank isn't the one who's been..." Erik struggled to find the right words.

"De-aged?" Sean suggested, raising his hand and feeling like a child in his very first school.

"Yes!" the German exclaimed.

"So...err..." Logan frowned, uneasily, "Charles got his powers when he was nine...and...he'e nine now...somehow...so, what happens now?"

"I wasn't there when he first got his powers," Raven shook her head, "It was a few years after that when I met him and he had great control then, so I don't know."

"That doesn't help us now," Erik sighed.

"No," she agreed, "And even if you were thinking that if he got his powers then he'd be able to see what happened: don't. He never told me much about when he first started hearing voices, but I think it almost drove him mad. He didn't have any control at all. In fact, we're the ones who could be in danger because of him the second he comes into his powers."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

"Think about it," Raven said, "You know how powerful Charles is, you've seen what he can do, but imagine all that without any control. He could kill us all with his mind without meaning to if he got a little angry or scared."

"So...what are you saying? We leave the professor and run away?" Sean scoffed.

"No!" she protested quickly, "Of course not. Never. But I don't know how we help him if Hank can't reverse this before...before..."

"What if it can't be reversed?" Darwin asked, "I mean, people aren't supposed to be..."

"De-aged," Sean finished for him.

"Are they?" Darwin added.

"They're not supposed to fly or read minds either," Raven said.

"Point," Scott murmured, "So what do we do?"

"I...don't know," Erik shrugged heavily.

* * *

Hank lead the young Charles back through the house which was now very quiet. They'd told everyone to stay off the ground floor until the explosion was cleared; a lie of course, but they couldn't go around telling students that their professor was now younger than them. They'd just come from the lab where Hank had managed to get Charles to agree to give him blood samples under the pretence that he could have been affected by the explosion earlier.

"Where is everyone?" the boy asked, looking around the quiet corridor.

"Everyone who?" Hank asked.

"The maids? The butlers? And where's my mother?" Charles frowned.

"She...she's away for a while," he answered quickly.

"Oh...again," Charles sighed, accepting the answer quickly. His mother always spent time away from the manor, going to fancy dinners and such while he was left at home with the servants.

"She go away often?" Hank asked.

"All the time."

"And...leaves you alone?"

"I'm not alone, lots of people work here...where are they?" Charles asked again.

"They're...away too."

"Away where?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"Just away, we're here to look after you while they're gone," Hank said quickly.

"And...and, by the way...I've been meaning to ask..." Charles began, "Why are you covered in blue fur?"

"I...just am."

"Oh...does mother know that?"

"..."

"She doesn't, does she? Otherwise I doubt you and Raven and Azazel would be here...she doesn't like things and people who are...different."

"She doesn't?"

"No," Charles answered simply as Hank opened the door to the sitting room.

When they entered, everyone inside fell silent and Charles glanced around at the faces that stared back at him in a way that he didn't understand. They were all deep in thought about what to do and what to say as his bright blue eyes stared back at them. "Is...something wrong?" the boy asked slowly.

"That's the understatement of the twentieth century," Sean muttered and Alex, as usual, was left to elbow him in the stomach, "Ouch," he grumbled.

"No, nothing's wrong," Raven stepped forwards quickly.

"Do you remember what you were doing before...we saw you in the lab?" Erik asked the young Charles suddenly.

"Why?"

"Just...tell me...please."

"Well...for one thing, I don't remember there being a lab in that room before," the boy said pensively. "And before that I was...I was...in my room..." he added uncertainly.

"You don't sound too sure about that," Erik raised an eyebrow.

"No, I was, I was in my room."

"Then what were you doing in the lab?" Hank asked.

"I...don't know," Charles shrugged, "Probably just...walking. Maybe I knocked my head when...whatever it was in there exploded."

"Yeah, maybe," Erik replied dryly.

"Does my mother know that you're conducting experiments, by the way?"

"Why? Are you gonna tell her?" Hank asked with a small smile.

"Of course not," Charles exclaimed, "Besides...even if she was here she probably wouldn't notice," he shrugged.

The young Charles couldn't help but notice that things in the manor looked rather different than he was used to. In his mind it was still 1942 and things around him seemed to contradict that, the rather large television sitting innocently across from him was one of them. "...Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"That...err...it's...new," Sean muttered.

"I'll say," Charles scoffed as he walked around the room. The next thing he noticed was the record player on the large side table that he and Erik had spent many hours sitting around, or would do as the case my be. What was strange to him was that he'd never seen it before. "I know that wasn't there this morning," he commented.

"It's also...erm, new..." Scott echoed his friend.

"...They're not the only things that look different," Charles said cautiously, "I don't know who you people are, but there's no way my mother would send the staff away. I haven't seen a single maid...not one. Who are you people?"

"...We're just...erm..." Peter shrugged helplessly.

"What?" the boy demanded.

"None of your business, kid, we're here and we're not goin' anywhere," Logan said quickly.

"...Fine, do whatever you want, whoever you are," Charles huffed angrily and stormed off, slamming the door behind him in a typical childish outburst.

"Great," Erik sighed heavily, "Good job," he shook his head.

"Well, what else were we supposed to say?" Logan replied, "We can't tell him. He'd never believe it anyway. He's just a kid."

"He's still Charles," the German replied. "Hank, get as many people as you can working on this and I don't want to see any of you until you find a way to fix this," he said before spinning on his heels and walking off after his friend.

"I don't know what's scarier," Sean began, "A kid professor or a pissed off Magneto," he said and the others muttered in agreement.

* * *

After he searched through the manor Erik found Charles upstairs, the boy was sitting at his desk with about a half dozen books scattered across the surface but he wasn't paying much attention to the words they held. His bed was a mess with more books and papers and a photo album was open as well with more photographs littering the mattress.

"So, this is where you're hiding," Erik said as he closed the door behind him.

"Who says I'm hiding?" Charles replied.

Erik walked across the room to the bed and sat down on the edge, he lifted some of the photos to stare at the faces looking back at him. One in particular caught his eye. It was of a smiling man and woman and the man looked just like Charles, or the Charles that this boy would grow up to be.

"Mother says I look like him too," Charles remarked suddenly and Erik raised his head with a frown.

"What?"

"My father...that's them on their wedding day...they look happy don't they? I try and remember them that way," the boy without turning around.

"Why did you just tell me that?" Erik asked, narrowing his eyes in realisation.

"Well, you just asked me about it - the photograph," the boy frowned.

"No, I didn't...but I was thinking about it."

"But I heard you."

"I didn't say anything," Erik reiterated.

"...Yes, you did..." Charles insisted, now turning in his chair to face Erik.

"Look at me, Charles...I didn't say anything. I thought it, but I didn't say it," the German said with stern seriousness.

"I could have sworn..."

"Listen to me...I have to tell you something," Erik began, walking over to Charles and kneeling in front of him. "Everyone else wouldn't agree with me but..." he shrugged, "You've already noticed that things are...different than you remember."

"And none of you will tell me why."

"Well, I'm going to...you see...it's not 1942, it's 1976..."

"Is that really the best you could come up with?" Charles scoffed, "...You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm completely serious. Haven't you been looking at those books on your desk? Open that big navy blue one...look on the first page."

Charles furrowed his brow but did so with controlled movements as he flicked through a book back to the front pages and his eyes widened in confusion when he saw both the publishing date and the hand written note he found there.. The instant he saw it he dropped the book as though it burned his hands just to touch it and he snapped his eyes back to Erik. "How is that possible? This can't be real..."

"It is, you know I'm not lying...you have to."

"But it can't be! It's June 1942, I remember...yesterday...this can't be..."

"You have a right to know the truth and I swore I'd never lie to you again."

"I don't even know who you are," Charles shook his head.

"Charles, you're my dearest friend, or...you will be. You were working with Hank in the lab and there was an accident. Something went wrong and you were...somehow...it made you younger."

"That's not possible!"

"I brought you that book for your 39th birthday in 1972 and I wrote that on the first page," Erik said, tapping the book for emphasis.

"...You're telling the truth?"

"Yes," the German said, genuinely.

"Why didn't...why didn't everyone else want to tell me?"

"There's something else you need to know as well," Erik added, standing up now. "You saw Raven, Azazel and Hank but they don't just look different to other people...everyone here is different in some way."

"What do you mean different?"

"We're all mutants, we all have...abilities," he answered, holding out his hand and making the metal pen on the desk fly over to his outstretched hand.

Charles jumped up from his chair and took a step back, "H...how did you do that?"

"I told you; I'm a mutant. I can control metal."

"B...but that's..."

"You're different too."

"Me? How?" Charles frowned, "I'm not...there's nothing special about me."

"Yes, there is, oh, believe me, there is. They didn't want to tell you about it because you got your abilities when you were nine. You're nine again now and we don't know what's going to happen."

"My abilities?" the boy repeated.

"You're telepathic, quite possibly the strongest telepath in the world and I think you may already be getting that ability; when I was looking at the photograph a minute ago you heard me thinking."

"But...but that was just..."

"Listen, can't you hear my thoughts?" Erik almost pleaded, "You can always hear my thoughts."

"How can I..." Charles stepped further back.

"You're still Charles despite all of...this. You told me...you will tell me, that our minds are compatible and whatever the circumstances you can always hear me. If you can see into my mind you'll see that everything I've told you is the truth."

"I don't even believe that anyone could be able to..." Charles began but he suddenly stopped and his eyes turned frantic as quiet echoes sounded in his mind. It began like hearing things from a distance, things he couldn't quite make out but they quickly grew louder and louder and louder.

"..._Don't even know how it happened in the first place_..." a voice said in his mind and it was instantly followed my many more.

"_What if this is permanent_?" he heard Raven's voice, "..._Want my brother back_..."

"..._How about_..."

"..._I should be able to_..."

"..._Professor'd kill me for smoking in the manor...damn why'd he have to_..."

"..._Wonder if he'd like something to eat_..."

"..._I want a drink_..."

"..._Worried about the professor_..."

"..._What if_..."

"..._I wish just for once I knew what it was like to be normal_..." someone thought.

"What...what is all..." Charles breathed quickly as the voices continued. His eyes searched frantically for the source of these disembodied voices while Erik was stricken with guilt.

He knew he'd practically encouraged Charles to think about his abilities and while he wasn't sure it was possible to bring about mutant powers through this mind of encouragement, he knew that it couldn't have helped.

"_I'm so sorry, Charles_," Erik's voice echoed.

"No, but...that's your voice...but you're not talking..." Charles panted, "Then how...I can hear...so many voices...who are they...why can I..." he cried, gripping at the sides of his head with clammy hands.

"I'm sorry, Charles..." Erik sighed, taking slow steps towards the boy.

"I'm going mad! This...can't be real..."

"It is real..."

"You knew...you all knew this would..." Charles ground out as the voices continued in his mind.

"Try to focus on me," the German spoke suddenly with urgency as he knelt beside Charles, "Just focus on my voice," he said. He gently prised the small hands from Charles' head and tried to raise the small blue eyes to meet his own, but they refused.

"...I can't...they're too loud..." Charles screwed his eyes shut.

"I know, I know," Erik breathed.

"There's too many! Why won't they stop!" he cried.

"Ignore them. Just look at me," the German reiterated, "Can you hear my voice inside your head?"

"I...I don't know...I can't...there's too many..."

"You have to try. Listen to me. Just me."

Charles breathed deeply as he tried to focus on the clear baritone of the man in front of him. He had no idea what was going on, but listening to one voice would be much better than the cacophony of voices that he was hearing now.

At first it was all but impossible for the young Charles to focus on any of the voices, let alone a specific one; they were all so loud and continuous. It felt as though his head was being slowly and tightly squeezed in a vice that refused to let up as it threatened to smash his skull to pieces under unyielding strength.

"I can't!" he cried, "I...just can't...my head..."

"I know you can do it," Erik said. He'd never had to encourage anyone in his entire life and compared to others, Erik knew he wasn't very good at it. But this was Charles, and he'd do anything for Charles, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone. "Keep trying," he said.

After a minute he began to feel as though his head was being repeatedly hit from all angles as the frightened mind of the young Charles entered his own. Erik winced and began to clutch at his own head much as Charles had done only minutes ago. The boy's chaotic thoughts tore through his mind with no skill to prevent any damage from being done.

With Herculean effort, Erik tried to think of things that calmed him, of things that comforted him and the first thing that came to mind was Charles' study, lit gently in the evenings with the fire burning in the hearth as it illuminated the old chess set. Playing chess and talking to Charles - quite possibly the calmest man he'd ever met, had always put Erik at ease. He hoped it would do the same for the young, distressed Charles in front of him.

"_What can you see in my mind_?" Erik asked in his mind, in the way he and Charles had so often used to communicate. "_Focus. What can you see_?"

"...I can hear you..." Charles breathed.

"_Think back and I'll hear you as well_," the German replied, "_What can you see in my_ _mind_?" he asked again.

"It's...it's a room..." Charles frowned, "In this house. You're there...and...is that..."

"We're both there. It's your study; we spend a lot of time there playing chess."

"This is what calms you?"

"Yes. This is a place I consider to be 'home.' I hadn't had one of those for a long time before I came here. Before you gave it to me."

"That's..." Charles couldn't help but smile, but it wasn't to last. With his lack of control and the focus he was putting into reading Erik's mind, nor could he stop himself from delving even deeper into the man's thoughts. To deeper, darker thoughts. To times that Erik considered the worst of his life. His time in the concentration camps.

"Stop!" Erik warned, but it did no good.

Charles felt Erik's anger and confusion at being dragged into the camp and being separated from his mother. He felt the same determination that had called his powers to almost completely tear down the metal gate and he watched, from Erik's eyes as Shaw killed his mother and made him believe that anger was the only way to control his abilities. He saw the poor, skeletal figures of the people Erik watched die, day after day.

"No, Charles, stop!" the German ordered again.

"I can't!"

"Argh!" Erik exclaimed suddenly, falling down against the ground. All of the anger and hate he'd felt in his entire life was surfacing very quickly, brought up by the memories that Charles was unintentionally bringing to the surface.

The young boy's head quickly snapped around as the metal objects in the room began to shake as he continued to read every memory, good or bad, that lay within Erik's mind. It was simply too much to take in. He quickly saw himself, an older version of himself jumping into the water to save Erik and later getting shot and abandoned by that same man. He felt all of Erik's guilt and confusion in the year after Cuba and the joy he'd felt on returning to the manor. And on top of Erik's experiences in World War II, Charles could see just what the German had seen when he'd fought in Vietnam.

"Enough!" Charles cried, unable to take anymore.

It was as though a strong pulse was released from his mind, like a mental attack and a second later, Erik fell against the floor like a lifeless doll whose strings had been cut without warning.

"A...are you...erm...alright?" Charles murmured, scared down to his bones as he shuffled slowly over to the unmoving man. He rolled Erik onto his back and that his breathing was laboured and his eyes were tightly shut. "Wake up..." he whispered gently nudging Erik's shoulder but to no avail.

Charles got to his feet, shakily and took slow, uneasy steps, backwards to the door without taking his eyes off the unmoving man on the floor. "I couldn't've...could I..." he muttered, his breathing rate increasing as his heart pounded. He could still hear voices inside his head but they were no where near as loud as before and unlike then, now he could focus on his own thoughts; and each one was terrified.

Without another second wasted on thee thoughts, Charles turned and ran out of the room and down the stairs, making for the sitting room where he'd last seen the others. From what he'd seen in Erik's mind, he now knew that those people were the only ones who could help him, and that he could trust them implicitly.

"You have to come upstairs," he blurted out as he threw open the doors. Inside, Raven was sat with Sean, Alex and Scott and they turned towards him in an instant.

"Charles?" Raven frowned, "What's wrong?"

"It's him...Erik...he's...he's not..." Charles panted, "Just hurry up!" he shook his aching head and ran back to his room, hearing the footsteps of the others behind him.

"Erik," Raven breathed as she ran across the bedroom to kneel beside the unconscious German.

"What happened?" Alex asked.

"I didn't mean to," Charles cried, "He was telling me about telepathy and he kept telling me to...I kept hearing his thoughts and I...I couldn't stop. I didn't mean to hurt him, I swear!"

"It's alright," Raven consoled him, "He'll be alright."

"You don't know that!" Charles shook his head, "You think he's really hurt. You think I..."

"We know you didn't do this on purpose," she said sternly.

"If I hadn't caused that explosion in the lab then none of this would have happened!"

"...He told you then," Raven sighed and turned to him.

"I saw everything," Charles replied in a similar, defeated tone.

"You don't know you caused that explosion anyway. Erik wasn't there when it happened. It was probably an accident," Scott said.

"But it still happened...and this is the result," the boy said, glancing at his small hands. "...You haven't found a way to put this right yet," he remarked suddenly.

"How did you..." Raven furrowed her brow.

"You're thinking it," Charles answered, "I can hear you...I can hear all of you, everyone in this whole building...you're all so loud. If you can't fix this...I could hurt you all without meaning to. You're afraid of me."

"No, Charles we're..."

"And rightly so. I'm dangerous like this. Until you can fix it then I should...wait...I saw something...Erik's helmet. If I wear that then I won't be able to..."

"You hate that thing," Alex frowned, "You always have."

"He's right," Raven nodded, remembering each of the times that Charles had told her just how much, and just why he despised it.

"Don't!" the boy yelled as he saw those memories, "Please...stop!"

"Charles..." she tried to move across to the distressed child.

"No...stop...get away!" he yelled, tears running down his face.

They all suddenly felt a mental blow that pushed them back and each of them fell to their knees clutching their heads, reeling from the sheer angry, pained force of Charles' unintentional attack.

He watched as they grimaced and grit their teeth and he just knew that he couldn't stay; he'd only end up hurting them, like he'd hurt Erik. Until they could put the matter right, he was a danger to all of them. He'd have to watch people in pain because he couldn't control his abilities. Charles couldn't help but feel responsible. If there hadn't been an accident then he'd still be himself, for want of a better term, and he couldn't have hurt them or Erik.

Making a split second decision, Charles turned and ran off out the door, intending to get as far away as possible. He'd run through the gardens if he had to.

"Charles, come back!" Raven cried, but he was gone.

* * *

Charles' blood boiled as he ran and ran ever further through the grounds, his hands catching on brambles, scratching and cutting his pale skin as he ran without care. He tripped over tree roots and felt just hoe cold the ground was, but he didn't care. He just kept running.

He could still hear voices other than his own inside his mind. He knew that Raven was trying to wake Erik up and he knew that Hank was working in the lab despite the fact that the man was rather hungry.

After a while, unsure of how much time and distance had passed, Charles stopped running and leaned against one of the large trees to catch his breath. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel the cold much more than before and he noticed that he could actually see his breath. He hadn't noticed that before.

He wondered just how cold it actually was as he began shivering.

* * *

"Erik!" Raven repeated, now close to shaking him by the shoulders, "Erik! Wake up! Wake up now before I..."

"...Urgh...before you what?" Erik winced as he tried valiantly to open his eyes, "Oh...what hit me?" he muttered, raising a gentle hand to cradle his aching head.

"The junior professor did," Scott snorted.

"...The what?" the German frowned, still confused.

"It was Charles," Raven answered, "I warned you about this."

"Ja...yeah you did. But he..." Erik grimaced as he began to sit up, "He had a right to know, he would've got his powers anyway...Where...where is he?"

"Gone," she said, "He ran out. He's probably out in the grounds by now."

"Then why are you still here?" he asked urgently.

"That's gratitude for ya," Alex rolled his eyes, "Mr. Unconscious."

Erik breathed out through his nose, heavily as he stood up with Raven's help. "We have to find him," he said.

"He'll know if we start looking for him and he'll just keep running," she told him, "His powers are in overdrive. He can hear everything and he doesn't know how to stop it yet. It took him a few years to learn control."

"Well, we don't have a few years to wait this time," Erik said, "And we can't just leave him out there. It's the middle of winter."

"Think he knew that when he ran out?" Alex asked slowly.

"Probably not," Scott answered.

* * *

Erik and the others quickly ran from the manor and out into the grounds, splitting up in an attempt to cover the sheer size of them. It was getting dark earlier with it being winter and the wind was biting as it wailed past the fast moving German. He used his abilities, looking for any trace of metal as he followed the small footprints he quickly found. He liked to pride himself on the fact that he could track rather well; it was the one good thing to come from his years of Nazi hunting.

He knew that Charles could probably hear them all as they searched frantically for him but he hoped that confused child would allow himself to be found. Erik could count on one hand, the number of times he'd seen Charles appear vulnerable and seeing his dear friend as a frightened little boy definitely counted as one of those times.

After a time he began to hear breathing besides his own and he found Charles sitting against a tree. It was clear that Charles was trying not to shiver, curled up as he was with his knees up to his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs.

"We're making a habit of this," Erik sighed. His pulse now beginning to slow down as his worry started to decrease on seeing Charles unharmed. "I'm not too sure about you right now, but I for one, am too old for hide and seek," Erik remarked to the shivering boy. He sighed and took off his jacket and draped it over Charles' shoulders before he sat down beside the child. "You were hard to find. I'm sure you must've won every game as a..." he broke of uneasily.

"...As a child," Charles finished for him, "I am a child."

"Technically but..." Erik sighed, "But this is strange even by our standards...We've been through a lot together, you and I."

"Mmmm," the child simply hummed as he drew Erik's jacket around his small frame. "...You consider me to be your friend? The older me?" the boy asked slowly.

"I consider you my dearest friend, surely you've already seen that."

"I saw a lot of things...it's hard to make sense of them all. It makes my head hurt."

"You, erm...didn't seem surprised when you saw strange people in the house earlier," Erik remarked.

"Mother's always hiring new help without telling anyone," Charles said emotionlessly, "Most of them leave pretty quickly."

"Why?"

"They don't like mother...or my stepfather...or his son..."

"Oh?"

"If we're such good friends surely you already know about them," Charles said.

"I know of them, but I know very little about them."

"Really?" Charles raised his eyebrows.

"There's some things even we don't talk about," Erik shrugged, "Raven told me a little, but not much...and I never asked you."

"Never?"

"No. You know...or, you will know how much I dislike talking about my own past. I rarely ask about anyone's."

"...You were taken by the Nazis?" Charles frowned, his mind conjuring up the images of pain, suffering and degradation again.

"Yes."

"And the war is over now?"

"That one is but there's plenty more in the world..and there always will be," Erik said with a sardonic smile and then a snort.

"What?" Charles asked, looking up confused at his smirk at such a remark.

"You always hate it when I say that," the German said, meeting the boy's eyes.

"I do?"

"Yeah...so, tell me, how's Hank doing on fixing this?"

"I..."

"You can still hear them, can't you?"

"Hmm," Charles nodded before resting his chin back on his knees, "I thought if I got far away then..."

"You told me once that distance didn't make much of a difference."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"For a start, how about go back inside where it's warm?" Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Back in there?" Charles' eyes widened in fear and Erik nodded. "But what if I..." the boy began, looking away in guilt, "...Hurt someone again?"

"You won't," Erik said, "_Even if you did, it wouldn't be your fault_," he thought back.

"Of course it would be!" the young telepath exclaimed, not disciplined enough to tell the difference between Erik's mental thought and verbalised words.

"You didn't answer my question," the German said calmly in an attempt to soothe Charles' confused anger.

"Hank...is still working," Charles replied quickly, "He's thinking a lot," he moaned and dropped his head. "So are you," he added.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," Erik replied, "Our minds have gotten..."

"...Compatible?" Charles said, reading his mind.

"Yes. I'm probably the worst person for you to be around, actually."

"Because my mind is so used to yours," the telepath spoke, still seeing into Erik's mind. "It's...you're used to hearing my thoughts too?"

"Not at first, I wasn't but I wouldn't have it any other way now."

"And what if this can't be fixed? You wouldn't get your friend back."

"My friend is right here, where he's always been," Erik replied.

"You're...not angry...about what I..."

"Charles, it wasn't your fault and besides...after everything I've done - knowingly, you're probably entitled to a few potshots," Erik smiled and stood up. "Now, come on, we'd best hurry back," he said, helping Charles to his feet, "It looks like rain."

* * *

It was now, well into the night and Charles had finally fallen asleep on one of the sofas in the main sitting room, wrapped in half a dozen blankets topped with Erik's brown jacket and with several cushions surrounding him. Erik himself was sat with only Raven for company in the same room, both refusing to leave Charles' side, even as the boy slept.

"I never really asked before," Erik began, "But what kind of people were his stepfamily?"

"Why are you asking?" Raven furrowed her blue brow, taken aback.

"It...it just came up in conversation earlier and I realised I don't know anything about them."

"Well...Kurt was...is...one of the worse human beings I've ever met," she said.

"He's alive?"

"He is, unfortunately. His son, Cain, died in an accident a while back."

"Then where's Kurt...and Charles' mother?"

"She's probably in England or Paris...or Rome. I think Charles stopped keeping track, at least I hope he has; she never cared anyway. She has money and that's all she wants. And Kurt...I don't even know myself. When Charles came of age and inherited his father's money, and the manor, he more or less kicked him out and told him to never come back. It's worked so far," she shrugged.

"What was he like?"

"Abusive," Raven growled. "It didn't take long for Charles' mother to develop depression so she didn't really notice when he started hurting both boys."

"His own son as well?" Erik asked.

"Yes."

"And you?"

"No. Charles always made sure I was safe," she smiled sadly.

"He never talks about this," Erik said.

"You're not exactly forthcoming with information about your past either," Raven countered.

"I know, but...he's always talking, but never about...this."

"I think he buried it...and then we both went off to school in England so he never really saw them much after that. It's not the kind of thing that's typical for his 'upper class, English façade' is it? So I guess he just doesn't think about it."

"I suppose so," Erik sighed in agreement.

"Even the best of friends still have some secrets," Raven told him.

"Who told you that?"

"He did," she smiled, glancing over at the sleeping boy.

"Of course."

* * *

Erik had fallen asleep sometime in the night after his third glass of scotch on the sofa. He and Raven stayed in the room where Charles had been sleeping and they'd stayed up talking over a decanter and two glasses, but now, he awoke to the loud sounds of music blasting through the record player. He saw Raven kneeling beside Charles who was flicking through the considerable collection of records in the sideboard.

"They're all yours," Raven said to the child, "You like..."

"...I like music," Charles finished, reading her thoughts.

"Turn that down," Erik moaned as he dragged his hands down his face, slowly sitting up.

"I think we woke him," she murmured to her brother conspiratorially.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"About half past seven," Raven told him and he flopped back down with a sigh of frustration.

"You don't like early mornings," Charles said confidently.

"However did you know?" Erik muttered rhetorically.

"Hank's still in the lab...he thinks he's getting close," Charles commented a minute later, "It's what woke me up. Loud music makes the voices seem quieter...I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's fine...I should probably go and speak to Hank anyway," the German yawned and stood from the sofa before walking from the room.

* * *

He found Hank pacing about the lab. The man was having to concentrate on keeping his appearance fur-less so that he could conduct more detailed experiments with smaller fingers and he was developing purple, bruise like shadows under his eyes that was clearly visible against his pale skin. He'd long since discarded his lab coat, his hair was a mess and so was the room around him.

The usually tidy laboratory was littered with evidence of failed experiments and screwed up pieces of paper with rejected theories as well as complex formulae written on the black boards.

"You been up all night?" Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Mmm-hmm," Hank hummed, "I think I'm almost there."

"Look, this is important, you can't get this wrong because you're sleep deprived."

"I'm fine. The sooner I fix this..."

"Are you sure..."

"I'm fine," Hank repeated, "There's no way I could sleep anyway, not with the professor...y'know."

"Mmm," Erik sighed, "It is strange...seeing him like that."

"Yes, I erm, I was told about what happened," the scientist said, "Is the professor...is Charles alright?"

"He's alright, yes...physically, but he can't control his powers and I don't know what to do. Hs usually the one to...I guess I never really realised just how much I rely on him for these kinds of things," Erik admitted quietly. "How sure are you that you can fix this?" he asked after a moment.

"No theory is going to be 100% without risk but I'm 99% sure, at least."

"What if something goes wrong again?"

"You'd rather leave things as they are? He'd have to grow up all over again, learn to control his powers a second time. Do you think he'd want that?"

"I...don't know," Erik shook his head.

"Anyone would love the chance at a second childhood and from what I've heard, Charles didn't exactly enjoy his first one. But we need the professor Charles, not the child Charles."

"Yeah...you're right. You're right, of course...How much longer do you think you'll need?"

"An hour or so...if I'm right."

"And if you're wrong?"

"This is my last idea, after this I'm all out...I don't know what I'll do then," Hank said sadly.

"Alright, let me know when you're ready," Erik said and left the scientist to his work.

* * *

"What if it just makes things worse?" Charles asked Raven as he paused in playing another record.

"I don't know," she sighed. "But you've seen the world we live in, you've seen what things are like, haven't you?" she asked and he nodded sadly; he'd seen everything in their minds. "We need you, Charles."

"But I can't..."

"If you don't want to risk it, then we won't. It's your choice," she said heavily.

* * *

"I've complied the same chemicals we had in the original experiment and I reversed the structure of the..." Hank began to explain quickly.

"Just...get on with it, Hank," Erik sighed.

"Right," the scientist nodded.

"So...what...what do I have to do?" Charles asked nervously.

"Well, it's a fairly simple..."

"Hank," Erik reiterated, getting increasingly agitated and nervous.

"You only have to sit here and wait for the chemical reaction. Once that starts you have to make sure to breathe in the smoke," the scientist said.

"If the smoke's what did this then why didn't you and Erik..." Raven asked.

"I'm...erm...my body's cells are different than Charles'...they are now, at any rate and most of the smoke was harmless but the time Erik came into the room. Charles had inhaled most of it so there wasn't enough left to do any damage," Hank said. "Are you sure you want to risk this?" he asked Charles.

"Yeah," the child sighed, "Let's just get it over with."

Hank gave a small smile before he set up his experiment and turned to Erik and Raven. "You two should probably wait outside," he said and they nodded.

A few minutes later when they came back into the room they found Hank kneeling beside Charles, the older Charles, much to their relief, lying on the floor unconscious.

"Well...he looks like himself...but...will he remember everything?" Raven asked, sitting down by Hank to look down at her brother.

"There's no way of knowing. We'll just have to wait and see," Hank answered uncertainly.

* * *

They moved Charles to his bed and let him sleep. Everyone had to admit that they could no longer feel the his mental presence in their minds and that, despite how chaotic that presence had been, they missed it. As they waited for Charles to wake the atmosphere grew ever more tentative and nervous as the hours and minutes passed. Eventually, those hours and minutes evolved into days and four of them went by before Charles finally awoke.

"What year is it?" Erik asked quickly as he saw Charles eyes move beneath their pale lids.

"Hmmm?" Charles hummed as he woke up, "What?"

"What year is it now?" Erik asked again.

"'76," the telepath said, "Last I checked...Why?"

"Alright, tell me what the last thing you remember."

"I...I was in the lab with Hank...there was an explosion and I..." Charles furrowed his brow and winced, "No...did I really..."

"You really were nine years old again, yes," Erik nodded.

"...And I'm not now?"

"You don't look nine anymore," the German smiled.

"My head feels like I drank an entire ship dry," Charles moaned.

"You're definitely not nine anymore," Erik said, relieved.

* * *

That evening, a much more coherent Charles lay awake in his bed with Erik sitting up in a cushioned chair by the fire in the same room.

"Well, I won't lie...I'm glad that's all over and done with," Erik sighed heavily.

"All's well that ends well, hmm?" Charles hummed.

"I never was good with children. I'm not cut out for it."

"Rubbish."

"Fact," Erik corrected, "You're the teacher, not me."

"You're not nearly as terrifying as you think you are," Charles grinned, "If you were I doubt there'd be any students willing to stay here at all. And you certainly didn't scare the young me, did you?"

"Not until I collapsed, no," the German deadpanned.

"Still hoping that those memories will somehow disappear from my mind?"

"Naturally."

"Well, they won't," the telepath replied.

"A man can dream, can't he?"

"Of course, but it won't change what happened," Charles said, suddenly serious. "I didn't have anyone to help me when I got my abilities the first time around...you were there for me this time. It means a lot to me, you know..."

"I think I did more harm than good," Erik murmured.

"I don't think so...Have you ever wondered...if we'd met when we were younger, would we have been friends then, do you think?"

"Can't say as I have, no," the German shrugged.

"Liar," Charles accused confidently in his friends' mind.

"What does it matter? I'm content with the present."

"Speaking of 'present', look on my desk over there," the telepath gestured with his blue eyes and Erik did so.

"Please tell me these are for Hank," he said picking up the two theatre tickets for next week that he found there. "You know I down care much for the theatre," Erik rolled his eyes.

"No, but Raven does," the telepath replied smugly, "They don't make thank you cards for these kind of situations, I'm afraid."

"I can think of better things I'd rather have."

"Better than a night out with Raven?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "You both deserve some time off, and she has been saying that she wanted to see a play for some time...You could have dinner afterwards."

"I thought we agreed no matchmaking."

"Who's matchmaking?" the telepath asked innocently, "All I'm suggesting is a nice night out with a friend...but, if you don't want to go I'm sure Hank wouldn't mind."

"Oh, you're hilarious," Erik sighed.

"Does that mean you'll go?"

"...She already knows about this, doesn't she?"

"Mmm-hmm," Charles grinned, "And she very excited about it...Thank you, Erik, for helping me."

"I'll get you back for this," Erik said, holding up the tickets.

"You're welcome," the telepath laughed.

"So are you."

* * *

A.N. The idea for a de-aged story came about really because Purastones got me all hyped up and I got a huge bout of inspiration to write it. I probably wouldn't have even thought about the idea otherwise, although I admit it took me a while to finish it.

I really have no idea what year Charles' father died in the comics or when his mother remarried. I have read on wiki that his mother and stepfather become alcoholics and that Kurt dies but this is me adding my own twist to the backstory. After all, as I think I've stated before, I'm only sticking to information given in the 'First Class' and 'Days of Future Past' films. I'm just cherry picking from everything else.


	36. Late January, 1977

**Late January, 1977.**

* * *

The girls' name was Aziza and she had a very strange ability, one which caused no end of trouble when she was brought to the manor. She was a child of just ten years but Charles had seen that she had the mind of an adult, or more specifically, she refused to allow any childish thoughts to enter her head. In her, the professor saw himself as he had been at her age. He'd been a very mature child too.

Her ability, she referred to it as a curse, was that she could, just with a glance, temporarily take traits from one person and give them to another, even herself on occasion. Until she began to associate with mutants this was limited to a persons' personality traits and she'd earned the reputation of a harbinger of bad luck among the people of the small village where she'd been raised in Africa. But now she could change people's mutant abilities and she didn't yet have the power to control it. It was something which even Charles was having difficulty in understanding. There didn't seem to be a catalyst for her ability kicking in. It didn't seem to be caused specifically by stress or rage or fear or contact, it just seemed to happen at random. Which was why their current predicament that night didn't exactly come as a surprise.

"How long will this last?" Erik asked through gritted teeth. He was sat hunched over in the living room with his fingers buried in his hair.

"A few hours, maybe more," Charles answered.

"Argh...why are you all so loud?!" the German grimaced, his knuckles whitening. "Why is this so easy for you?" he demanded when he looked up to see Charles reclining, the picture of serenity.

"You think this is easy?" Charles raised an eyebrow.

"You don't look like you're going mad!"

"Of course I don't. I'm trying to stay calm. Remember all the time I spent in your head? I'm very familiar with your abilities and the techniques you use to control them but all the same, I don't want to see what happens if I let myself lose focus," the Professor explained.

"I've been in your head too. I know how your powers work. Why can't I control this?"

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" the telepath asked sympathetically.

"My god...you need to fix this...I can't deal with this," the German ground out, "Where's the girl? Make her put this right!"

"She can't, she doesn't know how," Logan said.

"She'll just have to learn," Erik hissed.

"It was only a matter of time, I suppose before this happened to us," Charles sighed. "For Aziza to switch people's abilities they generally have to be in the same vicinity and we do seem to spend a great deal of time together, don't we?"

"What if we sent her away? Would this stop then?"

"I doubt it," the Professor replied. "I would suggest that we have Azazel take you somewhere more isolated but with my abilities so undisciplined with you, I doubt that it'll make much of a difference. And I fear that if we do so, we may take you out of her range to put this right...when it does eventually happen."

"Will it?"

"I've no doubt about it, but unfortunately for you, my friend, I've no way of knowing just how long it will take. I suggest you attempt to remain calm, Erik."

"Huh?!" the German scoffed, "Calm?! How can I be calm when I have a thousand other voices in my head? How do you do it?"

"I've had years of practice and my mind has adapted to the strain, yours hasn't," he replied sadly. "I'm going to talk to Aziza," Charles said, standing up, "Keep an eye on him, Logan," he said quietly before he walked out of the room.

"...Will you stop...thinking...for just one minute," Erik hissed.

"Hey, I'm hardly the brainiest person in this place," Logan shrugged, "What d'you want me to do? Act like I'm brain dead?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah, sure I'll just do that," the older man grumbled.

"You're still thinking."

"I'm trying not to."

"Try harder."

"You know just as well as I do, that ain't easy," Logan said, trying to stay calm.

"Then think about something else other than this damn mess I'm in!"

"Fine," the man replied smugly. Erik's demands beginning to grate on his nerves, he thought of the image of a beautiful woman he'd met and with whom he'd spent a long a sleepless night.

"Oh, very funny," Erik snapped.

"What? You look like you need to de-stress."

"And voyeurism will solve that, will it?" the German asked while Logan made a non-specific grunt in reply.

As the minutes ticked by they fell into silence which was broken only by Erik's sighs of frustration and hisses of irritation. He'd thought he'd understood just how disciplined Charles needed to be to keep his telepathy in check, but apparently he hadn't had the slightest idea. It felt as though his head was fit to burst an no hangover he'd ever experienced was as bad as this.

Erik knew that when Charles needed, or just wanted, a respite from the voices he could hear and when he himself was near, the telepath would venture deep inside the Germans' mind, with his permission of course. When he did, they'd found that hours could pass, feeling like mere minutes while they exchanged words with their minds.

Perhaps it was a technique that would help him now. He could focus on Logans' mind. Erik didn't consider it ideal, but he didn't think he even had the strength or focus to stand up to find Charles. So he began to focus solely on the thoughts coming from the older man's mind.

He saw terrible things and he saw good things. He saw too much to really make sense of and it hurt his head even more when he tried. But there was one thing that stood out amidst the anger and the pain and it shocked the German so much that it caused Logan to feel his surprise. He turned towards Erik in confusion when he felt a sharp stabbing in his head.

"Is that you in my head or am I just getting one hell of a head ache?" he asked but he got no answer.

Erik raised his head and took slow breaths as he fell back, slouching on the sofa with a face of grief and defeat. "What?" Logan asked cautiously, "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Something in your head..."

"You're gonna have to be more specific," Logan rolled his eyes.

"Erm...a woman...there was a woman...you were there, so was Charles...and...me...in a house. She...she...killed him," the German furrowed his brow is disbelief, "She killed him," he repeated. "Was that...did that really..."

"Yeah, it happened," Logan sighed, "In my future. Doesn't mean it's gonna happen this time."

"But it still could. If she..."

"No, it won't happen again."

"There's no way of knowing...if she's out there somewhere...she could still...Does Charles know about this?"

"Course he does. He saw it in my head...spoke to me about it the first week after I got here," the man said.

"He never said..."

"Guess he thought you'd do somethin' stupid," Logan shrugged.

"This woman..."

"Jean."

"Yes...she was...is...will be...stronger than Charles?"

"As Phoenix? Oh, yeah," Logan muttered.

"I don't believe it."

"Well, you saw...what she did. He warned me...before everything went wrong. He said that she had too much power to use safely, so he made sure that she wouldn't...I thought he was...I said things I shouldn't have. I should've known better. I didn't listen...and that got him killed...and her in the end...along with a whole load of other people."

"We have to stop that from happening again."

"Agreed."

"If we kill her..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. She's just a kid right now, I think the professor said you recruited her in the early 80's, she's not even..."

"I don't care," Erik shook his head, "If she poses any kind of threat to..."

"You really think he'd want you to kill her, or that he'd let you when he finds out?"

"It's for his own good."

"I'm no genius or nothin', but I'm guessin' this was why he didn't tell you...somethin' stupid, remember?" Logan remarked.

"I can't believe he kept this from everyone, from me. I said I'd make sure nothing got to him...I haven't always been successful...but how could I let that happen in your future? Why didn't I stop it?"

"We couldn't," he said, "I was there too, remember? I didn't stop her either and it was my fault in the first place. The Professor didn't see it that way, then or now...but it was. You were on opposite sides when that happened, you were more bothered about getting Jean to fight for your cause...but I think it got to you."

"What kind of...person...was I?" Erik muttered in disbelief.

"Not a good one, that's for sure," Logan said, remembering every fight that now, never happened. "But you changed...in the end...too bad it took the worst war in history to do it," he added.

"But you told us...that Charles and I had you sent back...how could he do that if he was..."

"Didn't you see that as well? He came back."

"From the dead?"

"Yeah...it's complicated," Logan said, "But it doesn't matter, because it isn't going to happen."

"How can you be so sure? This...girl...is out there and Charles will bring her here regardless of the fact that she could kill him. He'll do the same thing again and when she..."

"He knows about all this. He's known for years and he's had time to think about it all. You really think he want to die and let all that happen again?"

"...You loved her?" Erik asked suddenly, as he sifted through the thoughts he'd read from Logan.

"Yeah."

"And you killed her?"

"Yeah. She asked me to...if I'd just listened to the Professor in the first place then they wouldn't have...But it doesn't matter, it isn't going to happen."

"I don't care that you loved her, I don't care that she's a child, you know that if see her threaten him in any way, I'll kill her myself and you won't be able to stop me."

"Why can't we have any conversation without you threatening me about something?" Logan shook his head.

"...Not a word to Charles about this."

"He'll find out anyway, y'know," he replied, confidently.

"How are you feeling, Erik?" Charles asked as he opened the door a minute later.

"Just wonderful, Charles," Erik said, sarcastically.

"Ah...well then, you won't be pleased to about Aziza...she's..."

"What?"

"She's sleeping," Charles said.

"Oh..." Erik threw his head back, "Why is she sleeping...oh...I see...because we're too powerful for her..." he sighed when he heard Charles' thoughts.

"Yes. I can only suppose that in switching our abilities she exhausted herself. We probably have the...more considerable abilities that she's ever exchanged."

"This is not my night," the German muttered.

"Not mine either," Logan mumbled and Erik shot him a dark look.

"Something wrong?" Charles asked him.

"No, nothin'..." Logan said quickly, "I'm just gonna...go for a smoke..." he added before he walked off, leaving the two alone.

"Please tell me you didn't end up having an argument again," Charles sighed once Logan was gone.

"It's nothing," the German insisted whilst gently rubbing his temples and forehead.

"Really, Erik," the Professor sighed.

"Charles, this isn't helping me at all."

"Believe me, I know how you feel," Charles said, "But I can't do much of anything to help you. All I can do is try and teach you how to properly block out other minds so that you can help yourself. Just try and focus on my mind and we'll work from there," he said, sitting opposite his friend.

"I don't think that's...I tried focusing on Logan's mind and I saw too much..."

"I'm much more qualified for this than Logan."

"What if I...I don't know...knock you out or something..."

"You'd rather the alternative?"

"...Yes...no...I don't want to..."

"Just try, Erik, otherwise you'll go mad, trust me. I'll be perfectly fine," Charles told him calmly.

Erik let out a defeated sigh before he listened carefully for Charles' familiar voice and he was lead directly into the Professor's mind. It was a haven of calm compared to his own but what he didn't realise was that Charles was just as conflicted as he was, the Professor was just better at hiding it. He was also trying hard not to use Erik's powers, even accidentally because he knew that it would make Erik feel even more vulnerable. That, Erik saw and was appreciatI've of. He also saw saw and felt Charles' compassion and understanding at what had happened to him and experienced memories from Charles' childhood about exactly how he felt and how the young boy had learnt to deal with his ever growing abilities. For a moment it seemed to work. Erik's consciousness was more or less protected inside the calm mind of his friend which still had its deeply ingrained telepathic barriers despite the loss of his abilities.

But despite all this, what was weighing more heavily on Erik's mind was what he'd seen in Logan's only minutes ago and it was infinitely more important to him than his own discomfort. It meant that his focus slipped and the thousand voices returned.

"It's not working...I can still hear them all..." he mumbled, closing his eyes.

"You're not concentrating enough...you're distracted. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"Erik..."

"It's nothing, let me try again," the German snapped.

"The result will be the same, you'll only tire yourself out."

"I won't," Erik said, "Stop worrying, I'm fine," he insisted.

"No, you're not," Charles shot back but Erik, as Charles expected, ignored his warning and he felt the German's inexperienced use of telepathy hone in on his mind again.

Erik reached once more for the calm beacon that was Charles' mind which was now even more layered with concern about him and he couldn't help but remember what he'd seen happen in Logan's future. Of course, this meant that Charles saw it too and he instantly understood what was distracting his friend.

"I see...you saw...my death," Charles breathed.

"How did you know that? You can't have..."

"You have no control right now of what you show me whilst you're in my mind, Erik. I may not have control of my own abilities anymore but I still know the disciplines."

"Oh."

"I was hoping you'd never find out about it."

"Why? You should have told me."

"I didn't want to think about it myself. How do you think it made me feel, seeing myself die through Logan's eyes?"

"You do nothing but overthink, Charles, regardless of whether you want to or not, I know you well enough. You didn't tell me because you don't trust my judgment."

"You know that's not true."

"Do I?" Erik scoffed, "What else have you neglected to tell me?"

"I tell you everything."

"Eventually," the German said.

"That future isn't going to happen anymore, I didn't see any point in telling you about it," Charles reiterated, his calm facade beginning to slip.

"A woman you took in as a student because of your damn need to help people, killed you! You died and I just let it happen! I keep telling you..."

"That's enough, Erik, you're projecting your anger. We can discuss this another time, right now you need to..."

"If you say 'calm down' one more time, Charles, I swear..." Erik hissed.

* * *

"Aziza did it again, huh?" Beast asked as Logan walked into the kitchen at the same time.

"Yeah, it's the Professor and Magneto this time," the older man scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"We guessed as much," Raven sighed, "And Erik's not happy, we can feel his anger...he's projecting like Charles."

"Magneto is telepathic and the Professor has Erik's powers," Alex said, trying to prevent the grin from forming on his face, "And now they're arguing."

"And we can feel that he's pissed off too. Man, hearing Magneto yell is more than enough, we don't need to feel it too," Scott grumbled.

"'S like watching my folks arguing," Sean muttered,

"If Magneto heard you say that you know you're a dead man," Scott laughed.

"Hey, he already pushed me off a satellite once, what more can he do?"

"After all this time you still need to ask that question?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I think..." Beast began but stopped when a loud bang drew their attention.

It was the sound of a door being slammed open and crashing against the wall followed by the sounds of furious yelling.

"...Charles, come back here!" they heard Erik scream, both mentally and verbally.

"Oh, boy," Scott breathed, "I think hurricane mom and dad is headed this way."

"Which one's which?" Alex asked quietly and Raven couldn't help but scoff.

"Erik, that's enough, this isn't the best time to have this conversation," Charles shot back, sounding almost as angry as Erik. He came storming into the kitchen followed by his friend and the two seemed completely oblivious of the people sitting around the table.

"I don't care! I want you to admit that you were wrong! You don't trust me at all and you should never have kept this from me!"

"It had nothing to do with you! I was the one who died not you!"

"Wait, what?" Alex blinked.

"Died...Charles, what are you..." Raven began to ask, but both were ignored.

"You always think you know what's best for everyone! You never listen. You're so childish!"

"I'm not the one yelling!" Charles said rather loudly and contradictory.

"The hell you're not!"

"Erm...Professor, I..." Beast tried again.

"Not now, Hank," Charles cut him off, "Erik, listen to me..."

"No, you listen..." the German began, "This is all your fault. If it weren't for you and your damn...martyr complex..."

"I have a martyr complex now?!"

"Hey, can you hear something?" Logan asked Beast who nodded and gestured to the metal pot on the work surface.

"Oh," Logan muttered.

"That's nothing new! I keep telling you it's going to get you killed some day and you never listen to me. You make my life a living hell because I have to keep your new little escapades from killing you!"

"I never asked you to."

"You don't need to! That's another thing that irritates me!"

"Oh, splendid, another one," Charles threw up his arms.

"Are they drunk again?" Scott asked quietly.

"I don't think so," his brother replied, "But shouldn't we try and stop 'em...I mean...look..." he added, pointing at the cutlery left lying out on the table which was now jumping up and down dangerously.

"I'm not gonna try," Scott said.

"Anything else you'd like to get off your chest while we're at it?" Charles addressed Erik.

"Don't be funny, Charles."

"I don't find this remotely funny," the Professor replied.

What both Charles and Erik had failed to notice was that the cutlery and the pots and pans had begun to rattle and the metal handles on the cupboards were shaking too. They had been for at least half a minute now and finally, Charles seemed to head the noise. "What is that noise?!" Charles furrowed his brow and finally looked around. "Erik, calm down, you're rattling the silverware," he shook his head.

"That's not me," the German replied.

"Of course it's you, who else..." he trailed off, his face suddenly a guilty picture of realisation.

"Now who needs to calm down?"

"This is why I didn't want to do this now," Charles took a deep breath and the rattling metal in the room began to settle down.

"You were fine earlier."

"You saw me, and I did tell you that I wasn't 'fine', I was just trying to stay calm..."

"Oh, well, forgive me if this ruins your perfectly calm reputation as a cold blooded Englishman but this is a little more important..."

"Stop being petulant, Erik."

"If you'd said you were struggling with this just as much as I am then I wouldn't have..."

"You're stressed enough without me adding to it," Charles replied simply. "And I didn't lie earlier, this is less difficult for me than it is for you...but is still isn't easy...Do you really think I'm cold blooded?" he asked after a moment of silence, turning to look his friend in the eye.

"...Of course I don't," Erik acquiesced slowly, "You just...you really annoy me sometimes, you know."

"I don't mean to."

"I know that...I do, it's just easy to forget when you keep things from me like that," the German explained, looking away.

"I would have told you when the time was right," Charles told him.

"I find that hard to believe."

"But honestly, I haven't thought about it for a while now, too much foreknowledge can be dangerous."

"So you'd have let it happen?"

"No...if only to save that poor child rather than myself."

"Of course that would be your reason," Erik scoffed. "It isn't a bad think to think about your own wellbeing every once and a while, Charles, you'd save me the trouble of having to do it for you all the time."

"And I'm grateful that you do, I am, Erik, I know I don't show it enough."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Maybe," Charles shrugged, "When was the last time we argued, really argued?" he asked,

"I don't know," Erik shrugged.

"Feels like it was a long time ago," Charles said.

"Probably wasn't that long."

"Probably not," the Professor smiled.

"I know what you're trying to do, you're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"...Yes," Erik grumbled reluctantly.

"Excellent," Charles beamed, "So, chess?"

"Don't think this is over yet. I'm still not happy."

"Why don't we leave that for another time?"

"The second we get our powers back," Erik corrected him.

"Alright."

"Good," Erik breathed. "I think this is one match I'm set to win easily," he said in a much more contented tone as the two walked side by side out of the kitchen

"Why is it acceptable for you to use my powers to cheat but when I use them it disqualifies me?" Charles asked.

"Because I say so," Erik replied before they were out of earshot.

"What...was that all about?" Sean asked slowly a moment later.

"I don't know," Raven furrowed her brow and turned to Logan, "Do you know anything about this?"

"Nope," he lied smoothly, "I'm going for a smoke," he repeated with a heavy heart, feeling as though this whole mess was, once again his fault.


End file.
